


A Certain Romance

by nauticalparamour



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gifts, Post-War, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, flintmione, life through gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-04-30 11:56:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 36,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14496465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nauticalparamour/pseuds/nauticalparamour
Summary: After helping out an unlikely student, Hermione Granger finds herself with an unlikely friend. Marcus Flint is only too happy to return the favor. As their paths continue to cross, the more drawn to one another they find each other. But can they be more than friends?





	1. Valentine's Candy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to A Certain Romance. I really hope that you all enjoy this little piece, as it is one of my absolute favorite pairings! I am hoping to post daily updates M-F through May 24th, for a total of 18 chapters. However, I did severely sprain my finger over the weekend and I have been finding typing to be quite difficult so no promises this time. You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
> 
> Also, y'all know I love to respond to each reviewer, but due to the quick turn around time between chapters for this story, I am unsure if I will be able to keep it up. I am going to try my darndest, but I hope there are no hard feelings if I can't.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter one and be on the lookout for chapter two tomorrow!

**1994**

Rows of lurid colored packaging lined the shelves of Honeyduke’s Chocolate Shop in Hogsmeade making seventh year Marcus Flint feel rather overwhelmed. He’d thought it would be easy to get in, buy some candy, and get out before anyone was the wiser, but it seemed as if things weren’t going his way today.

 

Not that things ever seemed to go his way, if he were honest.

 

Things were already bad enough that he’d been held back to repeat his seventh year because he’d failed nearly all of his classes last year. It wasn’t his fault that Quidditch seemed to be the only thing that held his attention. Who cared about Charms and all that shite if he was just going to play professionally when he got out of school? His father did for one, and his Head of House as well. He was order to scrape by  _ at least _ one NEWT and then he could go do whatever he wanted. Still, it didn’t save the embarrassment of everyone knowing he was back because he was too stupid to pass his classes.

 

Quidditch  _ was _ a bright spot. Snape had argued that he be able to retain his position and captain’s status seeing as he was still a student, even if he was returning for poor grades. Marcus still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to get McGonagall and Dumbledore to agree in the end. He couldn’t complain about the extra year of experience he would get from playing for his house team and he couldn’t wait to beat those Gryffindors for the Quidditch Cup. He was positive that with the team changes he’d made -- going for size this time -- that they’d be able to boss their way to the number one spot.

 

The other bright spot, Marcus could barely admit without blushing, was Gemma Farley. Gemma was a fellow Seventh Year now, though he was a year older. Being that she was the Slytherin prefect, Snape had asked that she help Marcus out with some of his classes, and she’d done so graciously. He never thought that he’d admit it, but he now longed for study sessions in the library with the smart girl, only because he could spend as much time looking at her as he wanted.

 

Her hair was the color of honey and her eyes looked like dark chocolate and she was just so fucking pretty, Marcus frequently found himself getting tongued around the little witch. Every time she pushed her straight hair back over her shoulder to get a better look at her parchment, he would feel his heartbeat pound faster than when he trained. Whenever she laughed at one of his dumb jokes, he could feel his belly flip-flop so much, he wasn’t sure that he  _ wouldn’t _ be sick right in front of her. Salazar, she was really perfect.

 

Marcus wasn’t sure if she realized just how much he fantasized over her, but he wanted to do something to show her how special she was to him. Seeing as Valentine’s day was coming up, he had planned on buying Gemma some chocolate. He’d waited until lunch time to even enter Honeyduke’s, knowing that most of his classmates would be too busy eating to notice him making a huge fool of himself. He couldn’t imagine the embarrassment he would feel if  _ all _ of his peers knew that the Troll Marcus Flint fancied a girl. 

 

The shop had been blessedly empty when he walked inside, but now that he was in front of all the candy displays, he found himself feeling quite overwhelmed. This was certainly not going to be as easy as he’d imagined, mostly because he just had no idea what Gemma would like. Finally deciding that he was just going to get her one of the pink and purple packaged chocolate frogs and be done with it, he heard a voice from behind him.

 

“She won’t like  _ that _ ,” a swotty little voice piped up, making Marcus’s hand hang in mid-air while he wondered if he was hearing voices.

 

Turning around, he looked down, only to see a pint-sized Gryffindor staring up at him from behind a head of really, rather quite bushy hair. With cold-flushed cheeks and maroon and gold scarf wrapped around her neck, she looked far more intimidating than she really should have. Maybe it was the mini-McGonagall impression she was giving him.

 

“What?” he asked, hating how dumb he sounded in the moment.

 

“Gemma Farley,” the girl -- Harry Potter’s mudblood sidekick, Granger -- said with a roll of her eyes. “That’s who you are trying to buy for isn’t it?”

 

“How did you know that?” Marcus questioned, staring her down, hoping that his sheer size would intimidate her into just leaving him alone. He could already feel the blush beginning to form on his cheeks, and hoped that she couldn’t tell how embarrassed he really was.

 

Granger rolled her eyes. “I’m not as thick as the rest of our classmates,” she said imperiously. “I’m very observant, but you would have to be blind not to see the way that you moon over her in the library. It’s quite distracting,” she scolded, placing her hands on her hips.

 

Marcus swallowed thickly, hoping that it really wasn’t as obvious as she said. Still, if Hermione Granger of all people had noticed, maybe that meant Gemma had as well. And she’d certainly never tried to discourage him from staring at her. Maybe this was a good thing after all. “Well, why wouldn’t Gemma like a chocolate frog? Everyone likes chocolate frogs,” he scoffed.

 

She gave him a little smile, perhaps pleased that he hadn’t just taunted her like Malfoy would have. “Of course everyone likes chocolate frogs, but they aren’t Gemma’s  _ favorite _ . You want to give her something that is special to her, to show her that you care and that you notice things about her. For instance, my favorite candy is--”

 

“Sugar quills,” Marcus cut her off with a laugh, knowing how bookish the girl was. It seemed to fit.

 

“No,” she responded in a rather exaggerated what, as though he were a complete oaf. “My favorite candy from Honeyduke’s is the toffee.”

 

“So, then...if you are so smart and all, what’s Gemma’s favorite kind of candy?” Marcus questioned, wanting to show her that she wasn’t as smart as she thought she was. But, if he actually  _ could _ goad her into telling him what Gemma’s favorite candy was, he’d be all too happy to take the advice. 

 

“Salt water taffy,” Hermione said triumphantly. “Her parents are always sending her the taffy in their care packages and she’s always excited about it. If you  _ are _ going for a Valentine’s gift, maybe you could pick out some pink and red ones,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

 

Marcus felt his eyebrows practically shoot up to his hairline. Pushing his short hair back, he realized that he never would have guessed salt water taffy. He honestly hadn’t even noticed Gemma’s parents  _ ever _ sending her any care packages to begin with, and he spent  _ a lot _ of time watching her. But, he would usually get distracted by her more...feminine attributes. Clearing his throat, he knew that he had to thank the little pipsqueak for helping him out.

 

“Thanks Granger,” he said neutrally. “You know, you’re really not as bad as Malfoy says.”

 

Granger just rolled her eyes in response. “Gee, what a  _ glowing _ assessment, Flint. Don’t mention it,” she said sarcastically before pushing past him to get to the register to make her meagre purchases. 

 

Marcus stared after the witch for a few moments before headed over to where the taffy was stored. The pink and red taffy idea was really a good one -- festive and it showed his intent. But, at the last minute, he decided to get some purple as well. Even he wasn’t so dense as to not know that was Gemma’s favorite color. By the time he had his bag full of taffy, Granger was long gone.

 

Walking over to the register, he briefly stopped at the toffee display, before finally making his purchases. Maybe Valentine’s Day wouldn’t turn out to be so terrible after all.

 

  


 

By the time that Valentine’s Day had rolled around, Hermione was really quite sick of all the love in the air. She just knew what it was about the stupid holiday that made all of her classmates minds turn to mush. The boys could never act  _ normally _ around her then, and it made her a bit uncomfortable. Godric, even Marcus Flint had gone a bit barmy!

 

Hermione had thought it was a bit funny to see how clueless he looked at Honeyduke’s and she  _ almost _ didn’t help him. But in the end, her compassionate heart won out, even for a burly Slytherin seventh year. Harry and Ron were always teasing her about her need to fight for lost causes. 

 

Now, seeing him sitting across the Great Hall, snuggled up with Gemma Farley, she thought that it was probably all worth it. The pretty blonde girl happily popped a pink colored taffy into Flint’s mouth with an indulgent giggle, obviously grateful for her gift, and willing to share it with that big oaf. She was glad to see that he went with her suggestion after all, and Hermione honestly hoped that they did well together.

 

It was a bit hard not to feel too badly about herself as she watched the owls swoop in, ladden with packages and brightly colored envelopes, sure to bring declarations of love and affection to her classmates on that Valentine’s day. Hermione had no illusions that her plate would be left, unfortunately, empty. Not even Mrs. Weasley would send her a chocolate like she did for Harry and her children, and her parents thought that Valentine’s candy was a unhealthy dental habit, so they wouldn’t send her anything either.

 

Sighing to herself, Hermione propped up her head, resting her hand against her cheek, hoping that she didn’t seem too put out. She didn’t want to seem like a total mope, to let her friends know just how easily her feelings could get hurt. She was sure it would get better when she was older. Her eyes easily found Marcus Flint and Gemma Farley once again, drinking in the happiness that they seemed to share. She just hoped that one day she would have someone who obviously cared enough about her to get her a present that was really special to her. Not that Flint would have been able to figure out what to get Gemma if it hadn’t been for her.

 

Suddenly, she was startled by one of the school owls swooping down, landing rather ungracefully on her empty plate, before dropping off a red box tied with a golden ribbon. Completely perplexed, Hermione took the box and wondered just who would be sending her a gift on Valentine’s Day. She hoped that it wasn’t a nasty prank by Malfoy or Fred and George.

 

Grabbing one end of the ribbon, she pulled tentatively, subconsciously wincing as it came undone, expecting an explosion of some sort. When none came, she nervously opened the lid of the box, only to find a few pieces of Honeyduke’s toffee inside. Smiling to herself, Hermione found a slip of parchment shoved down one side.

 

_ Thanks again for the help _ .

 

The handwritten note was barely legible, as if it had been written in a hurry or as an afterthought, but there was no denying what it was. Joy filled her body when she realized that it was from Flint. The unexpectedly sweet gesture seemed so out of character for the boy who was more frequently likened to a troll, and was purported to be mean and vicious. She couldn’t believe that he’d actually thanked her again -- something she honestly didn’t expect. But, what was more surprising was that he’d actually remembered what her favorite kind of candy was. Marcus Flint had listened.

 

Maybe Valentine’s Day wouldn’t turn out to be so terrible after all.

 


	2. Quidditch Gloves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad that you are enjoying so far, especially as I've missed writing this paring so much! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter two and be on the lookout for chapter three soon!

**1996**

Quality Quidditch Supplies certainly smelled better than any Quidditch locker room Hermione had ever been to. The scent of new leather and broom polish was surprisingly pleasant and subtle when it wasn’t mixed with the unfortunate smell of stale sweat that always seemed to linger after Quidditch practice. 

 

The walls were covered with all sorts of accoutrements that Hermione hadn’t even known  _ existed _ when it came to the Wizarding sport, and she tried not to let herself feel too overwhelmed by it all. She was just here to get gloves, and honestly, how difficult could that be? And besides, she had all day to figure out just what would be right, thankfully.

 

Ron and Harry had received detention for fighting with Malfoy in the hallways, leaving her Hogsmeade weekend blessedly open. She loved the pair of them, but it wasn’t a secret that they didn’t really have the same tastes when it came to shops. But then, look at her! Of course she’d only ever set foot inside Quality Quidditch supplies when neither of the boys were there to accompany her.

 

Still, it had seemed the perfect opportunity to do what she came here for, which was purchase Ron a really nice pair of Quidditch gloves. It seemed that this was finally the time to take all of her hinting to the next level and let her redheaded friend know that her feelings for him were really more romantic in nature. She was fairly certain that he felt the same way about her too. She’d caught him staring more than once and she’d heard about how poorly he’d reacted when Cormac McLaggen had made flirtatious comments to her.

 

She knew that she’d well,  _ blossomed _ recently, and she was realizing that the boys of Hogwarts were starting to notice. Hopefully, this meant that Ron had realized just how much he liked her as well.

 

Hermione also knew that she was far too impatient to wait on Ron to work up the courage to ask her out. After all, she’d seen how well that had gone for the Yule Ball. She was going to have to make the first move, and Ron, having the emotional range of a teaspoon, would need to be hit over the head to make her feelings abundantly clear. Hermione didn’t mind, knowing that she was a modern, feminist witch, and she saw no reason why the woman should be expected to wait around twiddling her thumbs until a man finally chose her. There was no reason that a woman shouldn’t go out and take what she wanted.

 

And that’s exactly what Hermione intended to do.

 

She wanted to show him just how much she cared about him, and that she did take his ambitions seriously. So far, Ron had proven himself to be a very dedicated Quidditch player. Although she was lamenting a bit over the fact that he wouldn’t put as much time into studying school work as he did practicing Quidditch, she couldn’t deny that he was doing smashingly as a Keeper, according to Harry. 

 

She figured that Quidditch gloves would be the perfect gift -- exceedingly useful, but still personal, and expensive enough to hopefully convey just how seriously she felt about him. It was just...she thought that it was going to be easier than it was turning out to be. How was she supposed to know just how many varieties of gloves were available. Which was a good brand? Did he want the little grippy bits on the fingertips?

 

Standing in front of the wall of merchandise, Hermione found herself regretting that she hadn’t asked Viktor for advice. No, scratch that, it was far too weird to ask your pseudo-ex-boyfriend for advice on what to get your hopefully-new-boyfriend. Ginny had been out of the question -- the girl couldn’t keep a secret to save her life! Sighing, Hermione finally decided she would just go with one of the moderately expensive pairs, and hoped that it wasn’t too terrible of a mistake.

 

“He won’t like _ those _ ,” a deep voice teased her from over her shoulder.

 

Hermione whirled around, her curls flying every which way, only to have her eyes settle on none other than Marcus Flint. He seemed impossibly large, standing before her, his shoulders massively broad, but his waist trim and tapered. With his arms crossed over his chest, you could see just how much training he  _ obviously _ did for his professional quidditch career. “He? How do you know they aren’t for me? Or a girlfriend?” she asked, feeling smart.

 

Flint snorted rather unattractively. “You? Hermione  _ Granger _ on a broom long enough to play Quidditch? No, I wouldn’t believe that in a million years,” he said with a smirk on his face. He was certainly not the most handsome bloke in the world, but his years out of Hogwarts  _ had _ improved his features some. Still, he was nothing to swoon over. “And, I doubt your the type to go for a girlfriend either, though, I always thought Katie Bell was quite fit.”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes back at him. “Keeping up with the Gryffindor Quidditch team, have you?” she questioned, crossing her own arms over her chest.

 

“What can I say? I’m a lover of the sport,” Flint said, a brief smile flashing over his face, only to reveal his crooked teeth. Oh, Merlin, what her parents wouldn’t do to correct  _ those _ . “Now, I seem to remember you helping me out a few years ago when I needed a bit of advice. Allow me to return the favor,” he offered.

 

She looked at him for a moment, his bright blue eyes seeming hopeful. It didn’t seem like he was trying to be malicious, so she supposed that it wouldn’t hurt to get his advice. Especially since he was so knowledgeable with the topic. She blushed remembering how he’d sent her a toffee in thanks, and how it had just about been the best Valentine’s gift she’d ever received. “Yes, of course, I remember. Are you still with Gemma?” she wondered aloud.

 

After the Valentine’s Day, it had been no secret that Gemma Farley and Marcus Flint were dating, as they were often seen holding hands and sometimes kissing. It had been to the utmost dismay to the Weasley twins that a girl as good looking and smart as Gemma would want to date Flint, but Hermione mostly just thought it was sweet.

 

Flint coughed a bit, only to look away. “Nah, things fizzled out after graduation,” he said with a hint of a blush on his cheeks. He cleared his throat, hoping to redirect her to the topic at hand. “Now, your looking at Keeper’s gloves, but Potter is a Seeker, so you’ll want to be looking over here,” he said, lightly pressing his large hand into the small of her back to guide her. “Keepers and Chasers use the same kind of gloves, but Seekers prefer fingerless.”

 

“Harry?” Hermione questioned, scrunching her nose up in confusion. “Why does everyone seem to think I’m interested in Harry. No, these are for someone else...and I think I was in the right section,” she revealed, a bright blush on her cheeks.

 

Flint’s eyebrows seemed to disappear into his hairline. “Weasley? Really, Granger? Well, to each their own, I guess,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, not really sure he understood what the attraction was.”

 

“So maybe he will like this pair after all?” Hermione questioned, gesturing to the pair she’d selected, hoping to get over her embarrassment if she could refocus the topic onto Quidditch again. She wasn’t sure what to make of Flint’s thoughts on her being interested in Ron -- after all, she didn’t really think that he was the best person to be taking dating advice from. Quidditch equipment though...

 

Flint shook his head. “Nah, these still aren’t a very good brand of gloves. They used to be top quality, but they have really dropped over the years. Now these,” he pulled down a pair of gloves from a higher shelf, before pulling them onto his own hands. “These are much better. The leather wears in really nice, and they end up sort of...forming to your hands. It will give him better broom handling, which is essential for any quidditch player, but for Keeper in particular.”

 

Hermione watched in awe as he explained all the ins and out of the soft leather gloves currently encasing his large, impossible large hands. Were Ron’s hands that big, she wondered? Flint’s face relaxed into something wholly more pleasant, attractive when he was explaining something that he was clearly so passionate about. She was glad that he wasn’t trying to dumb any of it down for her, either, something the boys had a tendency to do. It was easy to see why he’d been able to secure a spot as a Chaser for the Wimborne Wasps.

 

Realizing that she’d been staring, Hermione cleared her throat. “Thank you for your help, Flint. I would have been completely clueless without it,” she said with a grin, taking the offered gloves from his outstretched hands. “I think that Ron will really like his Christmas gift.”

 

“And hopefully understands what it means,” Flint said knowingly.

 

She nodded. “Are you in Scotland long? What brought you to Hogsmeade? You are a long way from Wimborne,” she wondered, finding that she wanted to talk to him a little bit longer. Seeing his surprised face at her knowing which team he played for, Hermione laughed. “What? The boys are obsessed with Quidditch. I  _ do _ absorb some of it.”

 

“Just in for a game against Montrose,” he explained, looking around fondly. “I always come back here when I have a game. Quality Quidditch Supplies is really just that -- quality. Can’t find anything else like it, really,” he said with a shrug. “Well, good luck Granger.”

 

Hermione nodded, giving the burly man a shy wave, before turning to the till so that she could pay for her purchase. Seeing the gloves settled into the crinkly tissue paper, boxed away carefully, filled her with hope. Oh, she was so excited to give them to Ron now, imagining what his face would be like when he opened them at the Burrow on Christmas day. She could imagine what it would be like to kiss him....

 

Oh, now the seven weeks left until Christmas seemed to stretch vast between her and what she was sure would be endless happiness.

 

Skipping out of the shop, Hermione hurried back up to the castle so that she could get back up into the Common Room before the boys returned from their detention. It wouldn’t do to have them see the rather recognizable box, unprepared to answer their myriad of questions.

 

Once she had safely hidden the box holding her Christmas gift in the bottom of her trunk, Hermione felt free to return to the Common Room, a book tucked under her arm. By the time Harry and Ron returned, she was well into the book, curled up next to the fire.

 

“How was Hogsmeade? Anything interesting happen?” Harry questioned, slumping into the couch next to her. Ron moved to sit on the ground next to her feet, his back leaning against the chair, her legs.

 

“Nothing too eventful,” Hermione said, hiding a secret smile. “Mostly just spent the afternoon at Tomes and Scrolls. Promise that you won’t get detention again so that I have to go alone again?” she pressed them, knowing that even though she’d bumped into Flint, she would have prefered to spend her Saturday with her friends.

 

“We promise,” Ron said, patting his hand against her calf and giving her a smile. “If I never have to polish another trophy again, I will die happy,” he teased. Harry agreed enthusiastically, musing that Filch took special joy in making their detentions as onerous as possible.

 


	3. Unwanted Presents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so excited you are liking the fluffy sweetness I've got for you right now. You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter three and be on the lookout for chapter four tomorrow!

**1996**

Hermione had been patiently watching the days tick down until the winter holidays, eager to give Ron his present and let him know how she really felt about him. She'd carefully rewrapped the gloves, tossing out the box provided by Quality Quidditch Supplies, and replacing it with bright Chudley Cannon colors, knowing that it was Ron's favorite team. She'd even agonized over a tiny heartfelt note to include, hoping to put into words how she was feeling, finding it much more difficult than she would have expected.

Her mind had conjured up about eighty seven thousand different ways that it could go, but she liked to imagine how pink Ron's ears would turn, before he'd shyly tell her that he felt the same and would give her a hesitant kiss on the lips.

In the meantime, Hermione had tried to remain a supportive friend as the first Quidditch match of the season drew closer. Although Ron was an excellent keeper in practice, he was really letting his nerves get the better of him the closer the game got. It didn't help that Malfoy had been workshopping a rather awful chant to sing about Ron being terrible and always letting the Quaffle in, which all the Slytherins were only too happy to help out with. Familiar with terrace chants from the odd football match with her dad, Hermione could only imagine how awful it would be sung all together in the stadium. She hoped that Ron wouldn't let it get to him.

The morning of the Quidditch match had been clear and bright, and Hermione had gotten up early as usual, wanting to wish the whole team good luck, but Ron included. She'd tried to give him a little pep talk to try and keep him focused for the game, but he'd looked so green and nervous that she didn't balk when he waved off her positive words. "You'll be fine, Ron. Just think of it like you are playing at the Burrow."

Hermione was disappointed to watch Ron's mood vastly improve once Harry had slipped something into Ron's goblet. She couldn't believe that he would jeopardize his team's legitimacy, not to mention the numerous school rules it broke, to give Ron that bit of liquid luck. It seemed a terrible waste of a valuable potion, too. It was only Quidditch after all.

Of course, Ron had played amazingly. It seemed like no one would ever be able to score on him, not even the Gryffindor team. Each save he made only buoyed his confidence more, and Malfoy's rude little song was quickly drowned out by the Gryffindor's reappropriation of the tune.  _Weasley is our King!_  Oh, Merlin, Hermione could only imagine how that would go to his head, but she was willing to let him have his moment until he got too obnoxious.

She hurried back to the Common Room with the rest of the ecstatic Gryffindor fans, knowing that it was pointless to try and track down Harry and Ron at the locker rooms. She was unlikely to catch them before they got there, and she wanted to give the team a chance to celebrate with each other. After all, everyone had played spectacularly, not just Ron.

Back in the Common Room, Hermione wondered how Ron would feel in the morning. After all, he couldn't take felix felicis before  _every_  Quidditch match, could he? It was far too expensive, and even the thought of attempting to brew it put her off. Not that she'd make it for him, if he asked. She just hoped that he would have more confidence before the next game, now that he'd had one under his belt.

A party was in full swing in Gryffindor tower, and Hermione could easily see butterbeer and even a handle of firewhiskey being passed around. Despite being a prefect, she was in such a good mood that even she could overlook this violation of the rules  _one_  time. Taking an offered butterbeer from Seamus, she took a quick swig, hoping that her friends would show up soon.

When the Quidditch team finally did stumble their way into the Common Room, Ron was on the shoulders of Jimmy and RItchie, the beaters, and everyone was boisterous and happy and loud. The common room collectively erupted in a shout as Ron was carried into the center of the room, clearly feeling like royalty. Hermione tried to get to him, but was unable to get past all the other people. She couldn't hold back a smile when she watched him ham it up for the crowd.

Biting her lower lip, Hermione was surprised to feel a hand on her back. Turning, she saw that it was Harry. "He did really well," she said with a grin. "But how will you convince him next time?" she wondered, feeling doubt creep in.

Harry smirked at her, before pulling a little vial of shimmering gold liquid out of his pocket. "That was all him," he said triumphantly.

She couldn't hide her shock. "Seriously? You really didn't put anything in it?" she questioned allowed, immediately feeling badly that she didn't believe her friend could have the innate talent to make so many saves. Ron had just seemed...so lucky out there on the broom. "He just believed that he couldn't fail, so he didn't," she said, a blush beginning to form on her cheeks for doubting.

Harry shrugged his shoulders, before nodding. "I  _knew_  he had it in him. He just needed a big dose of confidence," he explained.

Before they could talk about it any more, a huge shout when up through the room. Turning to look, Hermione saw that Ron was standing with Lavender Brown, her arms wrapped around his neck as he kissed her soundly in front of the whole common room, whilst everyone cheered in delight. Hermione felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach, her good mood evaporating in an instant.

Hermione tore her eyes away from the amorous couple - Ron pressing his hands into Lavender's long blonde hair to pull her closer to him - only to head immediately up the stairs to her dorm room, slipping away from Harry. Determined hands tore through her trunk for the carefully guarded box that had been Ron's present. Her body shook a bit with unspent tears as she tried to think about what to do with the incredibly personal gift  _now_.

Obviously it wouldn't be right to give him a gift like this if Ron was going to be involved with Lavender. Wiping the tears that had fallen down her eyes, Hermione pulled out the note before lighting it on fire, watching in agony as it was reduced to ashes, just like her relationship with Ron. Her fingers carefully caressed the soft leather of the gloves, knowing that they were really excellent gloves. She couldn't give them to Harry as they weren't proper seeker's gloves, and she couldn't give them to GInny, as they'd be too big.

Her mind wandered to the way Flint had talked about how wonderful the gloves were. His face had lit up as he'd explained the type of stitching used and the way it improved the grip. Her heart lurched forward when she realized that the best person to give the gloves to was Marcus Flint himself. He would undoubtedly appreciate another pair of gloves, being a professional player and everything. Further, she was sure that he would accept the present without question, knowing what their initial purpose had been.

Pulling out a fresh piece of parchment, she quickly scribbled out a note to him.  _Flint_  - it still didn't seem right to call him anything but his surname, despite the friendly banter they'd shared -  _Ronald didn't end up wanting the gloves afterall. Hopefully, you will find a use for them. Hermione_.

She fought back a sniffle, knowing that it wasn't the  _gloves_  that Ron didn't want, but rather her. It hurt so much to know that Ron didn't feel the same way about her, despite weeks, months, years! of flirting with her. When a prettier girl first batted an eyelash at him, Ron had started panting like a dog, not caring who he hurt. Surely he  _knew_  how Hermione had felt about him? Really, it was inconsiderate and hurtful, but what more could she expect from someone with the emotional range of a teaspoon?

It wasn't too hard to slip past the revelers in the Gryffindor common room with red eyes and a splotchy face. She saw Harry looking around the room for her, and Ron and Lavender were so wrapped up in one another that Hermione would have been surprised if they noticed anyone else. She made it up to the owlery in record time, before trying her surprisingly large package to one of the school owls. After a handful of treats, the bird was flying off into the black sky.

Hermione thought she could have stayed up in the owlery for hours, listening to the quiet, almost mournful hoots of the owls. The thought of returning to the cheerfulness of the Gryffindor common room felt like her heart was in a vice. She knew that she wouldn't be able to go through the motions of pretending that nothing was wrong. Eventually, she decided to wander around the school halls, much later than curfew, only to be dragged back to her bed when she ran into Harry.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione had given herself a pep talk that she wasn't going to let Ron and Lavender get to her. She was going to take the high road and act like nothing was wrong, even though now she'd be scrambling to find a date to Slughorn's Christmas Party. It was easier said than done. Lavender - or Lav-Lav, as Ron seemed to be calling her - was incredibly over the top with her PDA. The couple, it seemed, was oblivious to the obvious discomfort of not only Hermione, but all their tablemates as well.

Merlin, it felt like a stab in the heart every time she looked at the pair. It felt as if she'd swallowed a rock, and she was glad she hadn't been asked to answer any questions, because she wasn't confident she'd be able to hold back the tears. It felt as if her world was ending, and she hoped that she'd be able to pull herself together before she embarrassed herself.

Lavender's over the top giggling caught Hermione's attention abruptly, and Harry gave her knee a supportive squeeze under the table when her eyes settled on the new couple giving each other Eskimo kisses. Hermione felt a knot begin to form in the throat and she quickly settled her eyes on her empty plate in front of her. She didn't feel like eating anything at the moment.

Luckily, she was quickly saved by the morning owl post coming in. Pulling out her sickle, Hermione readied herself to take her usual Daily Prophet, but was surprised to have another owl waiting for her, as well. The handsome owl gave her an affectionate nip on the finger, only to offer his leg in offering. A small box was waiting for her to remove it.

Interested, Hermione pulled the scrap of twine that had been used to tie the box shut. Inside were two little pieces of toffee and a small note as well.  _Hermione -_ she couldn't stop the smile from spreading on her face when she saw her given name written -  _Weasley is a tosser. Marcus._

Biting her lower lip to try and stop from smiling, Hermione was amazed at how much better Marcus  _bloody_  Flint had made her feel in less than one sentence. It was terse and a bit crude, but also a bit sweet in his own way.

Harry was looking at her with a confused look on his face, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Marcus?" he mouthed her way, having snooped on her letter. Not wanting to give up her little secret friendship with someone like Marcus Flint, Hermione just shrugged her shoulders, willing to be an enigma for once in her life.


	4. German League

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so blown away :) This chapter is a look at what Marcus is up to while the war is going on so I hope you enjoy. As you can see, we've jumped forward in time again. The majority of the story will take place in 1999/2000. You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter four and be on the lookout for chapter five on Monday! Have a fun weekend!

**1999**

The wizarding world in Britain was going to shit. Even someone as dumb as Marcus Flint could see that. Some of his classmates had been driven to join the Death Eaters - either by choice or by their fathers - and more and more people were going missing everyday. If there was one thing Marcus was sure of, it was that he didn't want to be a Death Eater.

He just wanted to play Quidditch.

So, it hadn't been difficult decision to put in a transfer request from the British League, leaving Wimborne behind, and hoping to put as much distance between him and the Wizard who called himself Lord Voldemort. Marcus had grown into being an excellent chaser - a hard worker, cheeky, and with a mean streak that many fans adored - and he knew he could have his pick of any team he wanted. In the end, he decided on the German League, knowing that it was probably the best league outside of Britain.

The Heidelberg Harriers had offered him a handsome contract and he'd willingly joined, knowing that they had a rich history in Europe, and that he was sure to get a lot of exposure while on their team, and hopefully a fair amount of galleons as well.

Once he'd purchased a flat and moved all of his belongings over to Germany, he got to work on encouraging the rest of his family to get out of England when they had the chance. His father had been a huge supporter of the Dark Lord the first time around, but had blessedly died before the man's second coming. His older brother had not wanted to follow in their father's footsteps, and had married a Norwegian witch instead. With two small children, it did not take much for him to convince Else how wonderful it would be to raise the little ones near her parent. Max, Marcus's brother had followed like a puppy.

It had been much more difficult to convince his mother and two older sisters, but he eventually got them to come around. It had taken a frank discussion with his mother about how dangerous it could be for Lavinia and Sabina should the Dark Lord be successful. He couldn't bare the thought of them being raped or taken advantage of by some of the unscrupulous men that claimed the dubious honor of being Death Eaters.

Sabina had whined for an age, noting that now was exactly the time that she should be finding a husband, owing to the fact that she wasn't getting any younger. Marcus didn't know how she could honestly whine about a grand tour around the world. It was only once Lavinia had told her that they would just have to find handsome Italian wizards to marry while they were abroad. The thought was enough to make Marcus want to hurl, but he was just glad that his headstrong sisters had finally agreed to the extended vacation.

They did stop by Germany with regular frequency to visit with him, and his brother had brought his nieces down to visit once, too. But other than his family, Marcus didn't really have many visitors to his new home in Germany, something he was...okay with. It was lonely, sure, but it wasn't as though he needed the distraction of friendships. Or a girlfriend.

He hadn't had a girlfriend since Gemma Fawley. It was a short relationship, but what a relationship it had been. Gemma was really quite sweet to him while they were at Hogwarts, and she was just as keen as he was to have a physical relationship, but as soon as they'd graduated, she'd left him heartbroken. She'd told him, none too gently, that she needed more than a Quidditch player with rocks in his head and then their relationship had been over.

That wasn't to say he'd been celibate since they'd broken up, just that he didn't have any meaningful attachments, and they were few and far apart. He convinced himself that he didn't want a girlfriend, knowing how much time and effort it took to keep them happy. No, it gave him more time to train if he was unattached.

The war seemed to break out just as soon as he'd left. All of the German papers told of the conflict in Britain, and shudders moved through society as if it were the second coming of Grindelwald. Worse, Marcus thought. Harry Potter was Undesirable No. 1, hunted by the Ministry and Death Eaters alike.

Little Hermione Granger had the dubious honor of being Undesirable No. 2, something Marcus would have found quite funny if it weren't so serious. He couldn't imagine what she would have done to achieve it, aside from being a muggleborn and friends with Harry Potter, but she had quite a bounty on her head. The poster they'd published of her had her looking fierce and self-confident, as if she'd take down the whole Ministry if she had to.

It was so different from the last time he'd seen her. In Quality Quidditch Supplies, she'd seemed nervous and small. She'd grown up to be really quite pretty, Marcus thought, if he could be a good judge of beauty. Her hair was not really bushy any longer and it seemed to be a golden brown in the sunlight. The smiles she gave him were shy and so indulgent. She'd been friendly to him, more than what he could have ever expected from a Gryffindor.

He thought about her a lot - everytime he looked down at his Quidditch gloves, really. He'd worn the soft leather glove originally intended for Ron Weasley, but gifted to him instead to this day. Marcus couldn't explain why he'd done it, but it just seemed right. He always wondered what Ron Weasley had done to Hermione, and part of him hoped that he'd get the chance to ask her what had happened. Now, he doubted that he would get that chance. Hopefully the little witch could make it out to the other side, but taking down You-Know-Who seemed like an impossible task.

But, he hadn't had much time to spare to think of England once he began training with his new squad. He found that he needed to prove himself to both the coach, his teammates and the fans who looked down on his wild, no holds barred style, and preferred a more clinical style that was typical in the German Leagues. It wasn't good enough to simply be the best if you were selfish and couldn't work with the team. It was much more important to think of yourself as a unit of the team, rather than your own glory. And, if that meant that your average points scored went down a bit, so be it. They didn't have time or tolerance for selfishness that hurt the team, even if you had been the young player of the year for three years running, and well on the way to smashing British League records for points scored.

It had taken some adjusting, but he'd done it. He put in the sweat, tears and blood into training and games and he eventually got people over on his side one by one. With his help, he'd propelled Heidelberg from mid-table obscurity, up to the top of the league, finally winning the league title the year before. And, as the years went by, he grew more popular with the German fans as well. He'd just learned that his jersey was the most popular around the shops this time. Children asked for his autograph on the streets. And, when he'd ended up in the hospital after taking a bludger to the face, he'd been truly shocked to wake up to flowers and presents galore from the fans.

Marcus felt as if he had a real place in Germany, but it wasn't the same as England. He still had a lot of unfinished business there, Quidditch wise. There were still records to break and games to win. He missed playing in Scotland and Wales. He missed the food. But mostly, he just missed home.

So, when it was finally gleefully announced that the Boy-Who-Lived had defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Marcus had eagerly gone to his coach to put in for a transfer back to England. He would certainly miss his teammates and his odd little flat in Heidelberg, but it was time to finally go back.

He sent a letter to his mother and sisters who were currently summering in the Maldives with Sabina's new  _Portuguese_ husband, letting them know that it was finally safe to go back to England. He didn't want to think about what their extended grand tour had done to the family's bank accounts, but luckily, accounting wasn't meant to be done by him. Another letter was sent to his brother Max. His oldest daughter, Brita, was due to start Hogwarts in the autumn, he knew, so it was probably best to get her acclimated in England.

Max wrote back that Else was sad to leave her parents, but she knew it was time as well. She couldn't bare to be parted from Brita by oceans. Plus, Marcus was excited to meet his newest nephew, who was just about to turn two.

He knew that it would be hard for him to go back to England. There would be people who would have a lot to say about his family's choice to turn tail and hide. Friends from school would no longer be friends, or would be rotting in Azkaban, or would be dead. People who'd fought against You-Know-Who would think he was a coward, and really, he couldn't deny it.

But there would be positives as well. His mother would adore moving back to their ancestral home and make it livable again. They'd left two house elves behind, but he was sure she would have many months ahead of her making her garden as glorious as it had once been. There would also be friends who wouldn't turn their backs on him. He'd been close with Adrian Pucey in particular, and he had been glad to hear that the man had been able to avoid Death Eater conscription.

Seeing two of his siblings happily married - even if Sabina was married to a  _Portuguese_  wizard - Marcus found himself hoping that he might be able to find a nice witch to settle down with. It had been a long time since he'd been left broken hearted by Gemma Rowle and he thought it might be time to hop back on the broom. He knew he wasn't the most handsome wizard in the world, but he was amiable enough. He could imagine his future witch now - the opposite of Gemma - a pretty brunette with a shy smile.

And of course, there would be Quidditch. He'd had offers from several of the clubs, including Puddlemere United, which was the best squad in the league right now. They'd even sent out one of their assistant coaches out to Germany to try and convince him to play, but the thought of playing  _with_  that arsehole Oliver Wood again made it an impossible offer to accept.

No, he'd be much happier smashing the quaffle through the rings that Wood desperately tried to guard, playing for his childhood club, the Falmouth Falcons. They weren't as good of a club as Puddlemere, that much was true, but he was eager to help bring them to the tops of the table once again, like they'd been when he was just a lad. He became a record signing, and Marcus was proud to wear the grey and white of Falmouth.

It would be hard going back to England, but he was looking forward to the challenge.


	5. Used Books

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I know you all are eager to have Hermione and Marcus reunited, so I will just get to it :) You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter five and be on the lookout for chapter six tomorrow!

**September 1999**

Hermione sighed, rolling her shoulders in a sad attempt to release some of the tension she held there. It had been too long since she'd stood up from her desk, buried in piles of memos and half-scrawled notes and legislation and books. Perhaps it was time for her to clean up a little bit? Perhaps it was time for her to go for a walk?

When she'd graduated Hogwarts in May, she had been eager and full of excitement at the prospect of joining the working world. Now...everything seemed as bleak as it once had. With seven NEWTs awarded to her name, Hermione could have worked in practically any job that she wanted. Harry and Ron had attempted to cajole her into joining them at the auror department, but she had no desire to spend anymore of her life hunting down dark wizards. She'd had more than enough of that to last a lifetime.

She'd still wanted to make a difference though, and after careful consideration, she'd decided that she wanted to join the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures. She was very moved by the death of Remus Lupin, one of the bravest, kindest and most intelligent men she'd ever known, and was heartbroken by the way their society had treated him. She often thought about the impact he could have had on the Wizarding World if he'd simply been able to  _exist_  like a normal wizard.

Showing up on her first day, she'd been full of energy and excitement, intending to get many things  _done_. She wanted the laws changed on werewolves, to give them the humane treatment that they deserved. With proper regulation - that is, their agreement to take the Wolfsbane potion - there was no reason why werewolves couldn't have productive lives. Of course, she wasn't blind to the fact that a lot of trust would need to be rebuilt from all of the damage that Umbridge had done, but she was willing to put in the time. Her optimism was quickly snuffed out by the intense bureaucratic hoops she had to jump through to even  _repeal_  some of the most harmful legislation. It was really quite Kafkaesque.

Standing abruptly from her desk, Hermione decided that a trip down to Diagon Alley was needed. Her stomach was growling more than a dragon, and a quick sandwich would be appreciated. Gathering her cardigan and her wand, Hermione quickly made her way through the winding hallways of the Ministry.

Her favorite sandwich shop was off of the main road, a brightly light little street that seemed to be the exact opposite of Diagon Alley. Passing over a couple of knuts, Hermione happily took her turkey sandwich to one of the tables on the pavement, before tucking in, wanting to enjoy the last few nice days of September. The air was crisp, but not cold, and the sun felt heavenly on her face.

Once she was finished with her lunch, she was in no hurry to return to the banality of her office. Dragging her feet, Hermione decided to do a bit of window shopping. Fresh cut flowers seemed to line the whole street, and she briefly wondered if the bright yellow daffodils would brighten her desk. Deciding that it would only be temporary, she bought a tiny bouquet anyway.

Realizing that it had been weeks since she last went into a bookshop, Hermione eagerly walked into the little used bookshop that she'd passed on the way to the sandwich shop. She would never stop loving the smell of books, the feeling of rough pages under her fingertips, the knowledge that lay hidden behind the cover. If she let herself, she knew that she could lose herself for hours and hours inside its walls. Giving a polite greeting to the clerk, she immediately walked back to the non-fiction section, eager to see if there was anything there that tickled her fancy.

When she turned the corner, she could barely hold in her gasp as her eyes settled on the  _last_  person she was expecting to see in the used books store. Marcus Flint seemed to take up the entire narrow aisle, appearing to have only grown brawnier in the years since she'd last seen him. Her eyes lingered on his shirt stretched over his broad shoulders and biceps, willing to appreciate the sight of a strong man in a way that she hadn't been able to do while she was still at Hogwarts.

He ran his hands through his dark hair, his eyes trained on the bookshelf in front of him. His expression was clearly confused, and it seemed as if he was having a lot of trouble finding whatever it was he was looking for.

Clearing her throat, she offered him a cautious smile. "Well, fancy running into you here, Flint," she said, smirking when he was clearly caught off guard by her words. "I thought you were off in Germany."

He turned to look at her, only to return her smile, a bit more confidently than he ever would have before. And the cause was clear - he'd  _finally_  fixed his teeth. "Came back to play here again. Got an offer at Falmouth," he explained softly. "Been keeping up with me, Granger?" he teased.

"Well, you are practically the best player out there right now," she said, feeling her cheeks turn a bit pink. She couldn't pretend as if she  _didn't_  keep tabs on Marcus Flint, but she didn't have to share  _why._  He was surprisingly nice to her when she needed it most. She still had the note he'd sent her that said  _Weasley is a tosser_ , and she still looked at it now and again when Ron did something rude and offensive. "Still it must be nice to come back home."

"Yes, my family is all back in England finally," he said with a nod. "I think they were all eager to come home."

"And you fixed your teeth!" she said brightly, only to see the slightly embarrassed look come over her face. Cursing to herself, she realized how rude that sounded. Hurrying to try and correct her social blunder, Hermione started rambling. "I mean, it's not a good or a bad thing. Just something that happened. I don't judge you for it. Malfoy hexed my teeth to grow to the floor in fourth year, and I had them fixed to be a bit smaller than they were before. People always teased me for looking like a beaver. My parents were furious with me though - I got quite a lecture on instant gratification."

Hermione snapped her mouth shut when she realized just how much she revealed. Blushing brightly, she cautiously met his blue eyes only to see that he was giving her a fond smile. "It's okay, I'm just still getting used to it," he explained. "I took a bludger to the face and quite frankly, it ruined my teeth. The healer fixed them alright though," he said, bringing a hand up to his jaw.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said suddenly, thinking that that really did sound awful, even if he knew the risks of his sport. "That sounds terrible. No lasting issues, I hope?"

Flint shook his head. "No, I was given a clean bill of health," he responded brightly. "Free to continue playing to my hearts content." His slightly overly large eyebrows furrowed together. "Why wouldn't your parents want you to get your teeth fixed?"

"It wasn't that they didn't want them to be fixed," Hermione explained, trying to think of the best way to explain it. "My parents are dentists, and they fix muggles' teeth. Only, in the muggle world it isn't as simple as waving a wand to fix your teeth. It takes years and years, and I guess they thought I was being...well, I don't know, spoiled by having them fixed so easily."

"That's a bit silly," Marcus said, a wry smile on his face. He leaned his large body into some of the bookcases. "If you have the ability to fix something quickly, shouldn't you take it."

"It did cause some...well arguments in my household," she revealed, realizing that she'd never even talked to Harry or Ron about this before. "They do have trouble accepting some things about the wizarding world. They  _do_  try, it's just that they struggle." He nodded, and Hermione was pleasantly surprised that he didn't say anything to denigrate muggles in general. Even Ron or Mr. Weasley with his muggle fascination would say something inadvertently hurtful. Other Slytherins would have happily said that muggles were the scum of the Earth.

A brief silence lingered between them, and Hermione wanted to quickly fill it. "So, what are you doing here?" she questioned, hoping it didn't sound too accusatory. "You were looking a bit...concerned when I noticed you."

Flint rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, I was trying to pick out a present for my mum's birthday," he said, his blue eyes meeting her's squarely. "It's this weekend, and I'm afraid I've put it off as I usually do. I just don't know what to get her."

"Maybe I could help you?" Hermione asked, moving towards the section of books that he had been looking at. "What is she interested in?" She was surprised to note that she knew absolutely  _nothing_  about Missus Flint, not even anything from the papers. Come to think of it, she didn't know anything about Marcus Flint's family at all.

He turned to face the shelf as well. "She's been groaning about the state of the garden since we came back to England. It's gotten quite overgrown," he explained, pointing to the row of herbology books. "I'd hoped to get her something that would give some advice on how to reclaim the damn thing. But, I don't know...does that seem too  _impersonal_  to give to your own mum?"

Hermione grinned at him. "I've always been one who gives really practical gifts," she explained. "I know that they aren't always the most exciting gifts, but I've found that they usually get used a lot. Plus, they show how well you know the person, and shows them that how much thought you put into the gift," she finished. "I always appreciate a thoughtful gift."

Marcus seemed to swell at the thought, feeling a bit more confident. Hermione crouched down to get a better look at the selection. "Pfefferlinger has done really lovely writing on traditional English gardening," she said before pulling out a fat tome and placing it in his hands. "I am sure she could get a lot of really useful spells out of it."

"Thanks, Hermione," he responded, looking the book. She felt her heart stutter a bit at hearing him say her given name for the first time.

Having a sudden thought, she paused. "What's her favorite kind of flower?" Hermione asked.

"Um, posies I think?" Marcus said with a shrug.

Hermione returned to the shelf of floral books before selecting one on posies in particular. "Here, you could get her this as well. Not quite as practical, but it still shows her how well you know her."

"Two books?" he asked with a mock frown.

She pushed his shoulder teasingly. "Well, you've got a Quidditch player's salary don't you? Surely you can afford to buy your own mother two  _used_  books?" she smirked at him.

"Yeah, but then she's going to expect such thoughtful gifts  _every_  year," he returned her smirk. "You'll have to help me again next time."

She laughed at the suggestion, before nodding. "I will do my best. It was great running into you again, Marcus," she revealed, only to be swept away by how true her words really were. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine she'd have a truly pleasant conversation with Marcus Flint in a bookstore, but she wasn't bothered by it either.

"You too, Hermione. See you around?" he questioned. He turned and lumbered off in the direction of the till before she could even respond.

Hermione quickly realized that she did want to see him again.


	6. Pitter Patter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad you liked the way that they bumped into to one another, but hopefully it won't take them too long to realize they should arrange an outing together! Okay, this chapter references a christening, but I am not using it in the Christian sense of a baptism. Instead, let's pretend like in the wizarding world, you do not announce the baby's name until they are christened at a party. You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter six and be on the lookout for chapter seven tomorrow!

**October 1999**

The war had brought about many changes that no one was expecting, primarily in the relationship department. Many couples had a make or break moment during the fighting and separations, battle tested by the high stress situations. Ultimately, that is what had happened to Hermione and Ron. They quickly found that once they were free of Voldemort, they wanted entirely different things out of life and ultimately split.

Others were a lot luckier. Harry and Ginny, kept apart by Harry's misplaced selflessness, were impossible to keep apart once there wasn't a Dark Lord keeping them separated. Everyone was exceedingly excited for the couple and even Ron couldn't find it in his heart to try and give Harry a warning about hurting his little sister. Plus, it was clear that Ginny was more than capable of taking care of herself.

Still more couples seemed to come out of nowhere, forged in those terrible months when Hogwarts was run by Death Eaters. Not every Slytherin student was so cruel as to turn a blind eye to what their so-called professors were up to. Theodore Nott had fallen in love with Luna Lovegood and Anthony Goldstein had asked Millicent Bulstrode out on a date.

But, perhaps the most successful surprise couple had been none other than Neville Longbottom and Daphne Greengrass. Neville had obviously gone through a lot of changes at school, showing the world just how brave he really was, but it turned out that Daphne had known all along. They got married mere months after the battle and were very happy with one another.

Hermione hadn't known much about Daphne Greengrass before she became Daphne Longbottom, except for that she was quite possibly the prettiest girl in their year. With her straight blonde hair and soft green eyes, she was quite a beauty by the time that they'd reached sixth year. By the time that she got married, she was only more beautiful.

After spending some time with her and Neville - Hermione could never imagine not being friends with him, remembering the awkward boy she'd first met on the train - it was easy to see why he'd fallen for her. Daphne was incredibly sweet and had a surprisingly dry sense of humor. Hermione found that she truly enjoyed Daphne's company, even though she always felt a little bit awkward around the Slytherin girl. Years of growing up with just boys for friends meant that she frequently felt out of place in typically girly situations.

Hermione had been truly excited for the young couple when they announced that they were going to have a baby later that year. While their child would not be the first child born after the war, it was the first child born to someone her age and it was a bit odd for Hermione to think about the possibilities. Of course, it was the natural progression of life, but it made her aware that she was one of few remaining single people in her friend group, something that seemed so ridiculous to her. But, she would be lying if she didn't admit that she felt some longing when she saw all the stable relationships that had formed.

She was excited to be invited to Daphne and Neville's new baby's christening party. Their son, a little boy born in October, had been in the world for two weeks and the whole time his name and all particulars had been kept secret, as was custom in the pureblooded wizarding tradition. Hermione couldn't wait to meet the little boy and share the joy with the two young parents.

It would also be a test for her as it was the first time of hanging out with Ron and his new  _very_  serious girlfriend, Susan Bones. Mrs. Weasley had gushed over how sweet the girl was, unintentionally cruel. Or, perhaps knowing Mrs. Weasley, it had been intentional.

Wanting to find the perfect gift for the newest member of her little circle, Hermione had trudged her way over to the only baby store in Diagon Alley. She had absolutely no idea what to get for the boy, but she was hoping that inspiration would strike when she browsed the store.

However, as soon as she walked into the store, she wondered if the universe was playing terrible tricks on her. Instead of seeing walls of soft fabrics in pale colors, Hermione was greeted by an assortment of the oddest gifts she ever would have seen - sticks woven into intricate shapes, petrified birds' eggs that looked as if they would be better suited on a potions master's desk, crystallized fruits and packets of spices. Standing awkwardly in the middle of the shop, Hermione felt completely out of her element, something she hadn't felt since her first day at Hogwarts.

Blushing, she quickly busied herself to save herself the embarrassment of being asked if she needed assistance from the shopkeeper. The whole while, her mind was spinning, whirling in circles as she tried to determine what was an appropriate gift for the littlest Longbottom. She heard the bell ring at the door and knew another shopper had entered, and she hoped desperately that they wouldn't recognize her. The thought of being so desperately unprepared for a wizarding custom made her feel like an outsider, someone unworthy of being called a witch.

To her dismay, she heard the other person walk towards her, stopping only when they reached her side. She could hear the other shopper smile, but she kept her eyes stubbornly down on the bird's nest in her hands. Unbidden, her eyes darted to his unusually large feet.

"We really must stop meeting this way, Granger," a teasing voice greeted her.

Immediately, Hermione's eyes snapped up to his face, seeing Marcus Flint smiling down at her, friendly in a way that he only seemed to be to her. She blushed furiously, but returned his smile. "But if we stopped meeting this way, I'm afraid I would find myself committing a terrible faux-paux, without your constant guidance of selecting gifts."

He snorted, taking the delicate nest from her hands, before setting it back down again. "I'd say that's true," he agreed with a smirk. "What are you doing here?"

"My friend Neville Longbottom - you remember him? - well, he's invited me to his son's christening and I hoped to bring a gift that would be appropriate," she explained swallowing thickly. "But, I'm a bit out of my depth. You see, muggles typically give blankets or booties or nappies, nothing...nothing quite like this," she said raising her hand to sweep across the room. "What are you doing here? I must confess a baby store is the last place I'd expect to see you, if you could call this place a baby store."

"My cousin Daphne Longbottom has invited to me to her son's christening," he told her, his blue eyes showing his delight that they should be in the same circle for once. "My mum has sent me here to procure a specific sapling to gift to the baby from the Flint family, so that he might grow as strong and tall as the tree."

Hermione wet her lips nervously. "Do you...do you think you could help me pick out a gift? I don't have any idea what would even begin to be appropriate," she said looking around the room again. The Flint family's gift sounded appropriate and sweet, something that Neville was sure to appreciate as well, seeing as he was so fond of herbology. It was poetic and full of promise as well, a tradition that was likely treasured.

"I can try," he said, pressing a hand to the small of her back to lead her towards a row of tiny tree sprouts she had not seen initially. She could feel the heat of his body seeping in through his palm and her robes and into her very skin. "But, you see, wizarding gifts can be a bit odd. It's most appropriate to give the child something of your magic, something that you have an affinity to. You pour a bit of yourself into the gift so that the child knows it will always have your friendship even as it grows and changes because a bit of you is embedded into the gift."

"So, your family has affinity to arborism?" she questioned, completely fascinated by the backstory.

Marcus smiled. "Well, growing things, I don't know if it's particular to trees," he explained. "Herbology was the only class I ever felt comfortable in," he told her honestly, revealing a little piece of himself to her. She knew that he was not the greatest student, but it was not easy to speak of your weaknesses, something she was only too aware of.

"Hm, well, I don't know what I could possibly contribute that would be meaningful," she said, letting her shoulders deflate a bit. Marcus was inspecting a tree and Hermione let her fingers run over its leaves, assessing it to be hearty. "What if I give them something terrible?"

"Well, if Neville is your friend, I am sure he will be happy with anything you gift his child," Marcus said smartly, before finalizing the tree that he wanted, picking it up carefully and taking it to the till. "But if not, I am positive that Daphne would be. She's always been a sweet girl."

"I must say that I can't believe you and Daphne are related," Hermione said, thinking of the blonde girl. They looked impossibly different, though she could see that Daphne's younger sister Astoria did share Marcus's coloring.

"It's the truth, just the same," he said with a shrug, dropping a couple of galleons into the greedy hand of the shop keep. "Say, aren't you really good at arithmancy? You could give the baby a chart," he suggested.

Hermione thought it over. "Fair, but the baby's name hasn't been announced yet. I don't know how much good it will do."

"Well, you know his families and you know when he was born and under what sky. And, if your heart is in the right place while you do the calculations,  _that_  is what will really matter. Your magic and intent," he explained, giving her a bit of a lopsided smile. "And, if you were good at knitting, you could still give him booties. I don't think that's a terrible idea either."

Realizing that he was telling the truth, Hermione felt a lot better now that she had a direction to go in. It wouldn't be a traditional chart, but as Marcus pointed out, she would be able to chart quite the course for the little boy using her arithmancy skills. She just hoped that it was meaningful  _enough_  that she didn't stand out. And, she did always have the booties as a backup, just in case.

Following him out of the shop, they stood on the cobblestone street, neither one of them really wanting to leave. "I'll have to seek out your counsel again in the future when my next friend has a baby. I'm sure it will be Harry and Ginny," she revealed.

"That seems fair, but I might expect something in return," he said, a hint of flirtatiousness in his voice.

Hermione felt her heart flutter in her chest, when she realized she very well was flirting with Marcus Flint of all people. Oh, what  _would_  her friends think of this? Unable to help herself, she looked up at him through sooty lashes. "Oh yeah? And what would that be?"

Marcus sputtered, suddenly aware of the subtext in their words. A blush formed on his cheeks. "I just meant that I might need your help picking out my other's Yule gifts as well as her birthday presents," he said, the moment between them passing.

She laughed, though she was surprised to feel vaguely disappointed. "Deal," she said, a smile that did not quite reach her eyes on her face. "I look forward to seeing you at the Christening, Marcus," she said as a means of farewell, knowing that she meant it.


	7. Of Little Feet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! As many of you guessed, this is the christening :) I hope to incorporate a few new perspectives in this chapter, so I hope that you enjoy! You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter seven and be on the lookout for chapter eight tomorrow!

**November 1999**

Marcus had not been too excited to go to Daphne's child's christening. He hadn't wanted to get dressed up and talk with people who he hadn't thought of in five years, like that little shit Malfoy. It seemed tiresome to have to do something like this, even if he knew it would be a good way to reacclimate himself to the society he'd left behind. Plus, he knew Daph would have been devastated if he didn't show up.

That was, of course, until he found out that Hermione Granger would be attending as well.

So, when the day of the christening finally arrived, he eagerly dressed in his nicest navy blue robes, ones that had been tailored to fit his physique properly, and hoped that he wouldn't get too nervous and completely botch up talking to her again. He'd been so thrown off by her  _actually_  flirting with him that he found himself completely flustered and nearly unable to speak.

His sister Lavinia gave him a suspicious look when she noted just how much effort he was putting into his appearance, but didn't say anything. Instead, she gathered their niece, Brita, who was due to start Hogwarts the following year, and took off through the floo to their cousin's party. Marcus looked around the room eagerly, but couldn't locate the curly-haired witch for the life of him.

The ceremony started not long afterwards. The now ultra-confident Neville Longbottom wrapped an arm around Daphne's waist while she cradled the baby and announced to the room that he was to be called Augustus Frank Longbottom. Marcus barely restrained a snort at the name they'd selected for the little tyke, before pulling his sister into the line to give their present.

Daphne was the picture of a perfect hostess as she genuinely thanked the Flints for their gift, and even Longbottom's eyes seemed to brighten at the meaning of the gift. Surely, it would be something father and son could share. Daphne also insisted Marcus come around for dinners now that he was back, something that had him blushing fiercely. It was odd how much growing up could change your familial relationships.

Once he'd been there long enough, he dipped away, eager to get a drink. He stood near one of the windows with a vantage of the whole room, hoping to notice Hermione as soon as she came in. He was so focused on the gift line that he didn't notice someone coming to stand next to him until they cleared their throat, causing him to spill some of his champagne down the front of his robes.

"Thanks again for your help with the present," Hermione said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Daphne was surprised, I think, but very grateful for the chart. And the booties were just a little extra for Auggie."

"I'm glad I could help," Marcus said, wiping at the wet spot on his chest, hoping that she wouldn't notice how much she'd startled him. "Auggie. Is that what they are going to call him?" he asked, thinking that it probably wasn't the worst nickname in the world.

"Yes," Hermione said with a smile, before pointing out a rather old woman with an impressive hat with a stuffed vulture on the top of it. "I think that Neville's grandmother  _Augusta_  is quite pleased with the name."

Meanwhile, across the room from Hermione and Marcus, Marcus's older sister Lavinia was quite annoyed at being abandoned so quickly by her brother. She had wanted to chat up his old friend Adrian Pucey who was looking quite fit, and last she'd heard, had become quite the successful barrister. Surely he would have forgotten by now that she used to call him  _terrible_  names? But, she wasn't going to get anywhere with Adrian if she was saddled with her niece.

Her brother was easy to pick out amongst the crowd due to his sheer size, but she was surprised to see him talking with a witch. The witch wasn't gorgeous, but she certainly knew how to dress to flatter herself. Her ivory colored dress suited her pale skin in a way that Lavinia never would have imagined, and her brown hair was pulled back into an attractive chignon. What really made her stand out, though, was the expression on her face; with mischievous eyes and an easy grin, she was obviously completely relaxed and enjoying talking to  _Marcus,_  of all people.

Unable to contain her curiosity, Lavinia steered Brita over to where Daphne and Neville were mingling. Hugging her cousin fiercely, Lavinia complimented the couple on their bundle of joy again, before getting at the heart of what she wanted to know. "Say, who is that witch that Marcus is talking to?" she asked, trying to discreetly point to where her baby brother was hiding a laugh.

"Oh, don't you know her?" Daphne asked perplexed. "That's Hermione Granger. She is one of Harry Potter's best friends and helped take down you-know-who. Though, I must say, I never would have imagined her getting along as well with Marcus." Elbowing her husband in the side, she focused his attention on the Gryffindor girl. "Look, Marcus and Hermione are having such a great time together. Oh, Neville, you were so  _right_. This party was such a great opportunity to bring our friends together."

Neville looked slightly concerned to see the burly Quidditch chaser standing  _quite_  so close to Hermione, but upon seeing Hermione's smiling expression, he relaxed. "Yeah, they do seem to be getting on," he agreed, scratching the back of his head in confusion.

Lavinia pursed her lips, wondering exactly what the two were trying to suggest. Were they intimating that Marcus wasn't good enough for the girl? Granger might have helped take down  _you-know-who_  but Marcus was a well respected Quidditch player, probably one of the top five players in the whole entire world, and she wasn't going to let some little tart make her baby brother feel like shit! Tugging on her niece's hand, she started off in the direction of the pair. "Come on, Brita, let's go talk to Uncle Marcus's new friend."

It seemed as if she caught Marcus completely off-guard when she finally appeared, as he was far too absorbed in Hermione Granger to notice her approach. Plastering a fake smile on her face, Lavinia broke into their conversation. "Do you want to introduce us to your little friend, Marcus?" she asked expectantly.

Lavinia was not blind to the way that Hermione Granger's eyes widened at seeing her and Brita suddenly appear, confusion evident on her face. But she also detected a bit of disappointment. Marcus, on the other hand, immediately blushed brighter than a tomato in the sun, which was a surprise. Clearly, there were more feelings between the two of them than she realized.

"Lavinia, this is my friend Hermione Granger. We were at school together," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hermione, this is my older sister Lavinia, and my niece Brita. She's starting Hogwarts next year."

Hermione seemed to relax at hearing that, giving Lavinia a cautious smile. "It's so nice to meet you. And of course your daughter is beautiful," she said, her eyes dropping to the littlest witch.

"Oh, Brita's my niece as well," Lavinia said with a laugh, pressing her hands to Brita's shoulders. "Our oldest brother, Max's daughter. He and his wife have just moved back to England. We were hoping to meet some of Brita's future classmates, but unfortunately there doesn't seem to be many people in her age range here."

Hermione turned to look at Marcus. "Wow, you have quite the family. An older sister and an older brother? I had no idea you had so many siblings."

Marcus nodded. "We've got another older sister, too. Sabina. She just married herself," he explained, before lightly shouldering her. "Did you really think that I've no siblings?"

"Well, I guess I never really thought about it. You always seemed to fierce at school, the idea of  _you_  being someone's little brother never crossed my mind," Hermione flirted right back. Lavinia watched the pair banter back and forth. Clearly, there was a lot more between them than she'd initially thought. It was also clear to her that they liked each other quite a bit. So why was this the first time that she was meeting this Hermione Granger? She was determined to pry more information out of Marcus later.

"And, you should know, he's such a spoiled baby brother," Lavinia teased, squeezing Marcus's cheek. "He was  _always_ mother's favorite. And Sabina's." Hermione laughed seeing Marcus turn quite red again. "Marcus, I was hoping you could introduce me to Adrian Pucey again? After all, don't you think you've monopolized enough of Hermione's time.  _Surely_  she has other friends she'd like to speak with."

Hermione's shoulders dropped imperceptibly at the suggestion that they part, but she quickly steeled her expression. "Of course. It was lovely to meet you Lavinia, Brita," she said brightly before giving Marcus a hopeful look. "See you again soon? I'd love to talk with you again."

Marcus nodded, giving her a lopsided smile. "Yeah, I'm sure we will run into each other again soon."

Lavinia carefully guided her little brother away from the witch, turning her head towards her once or twice. Hermione had stood where she was, looking out of place for a moment, before making her way towards a gaggle of Weasleys, and of course Harry Potter. From the looks of it, it seemed as if she was getting  _quite_  the interrogation from her other friends. From the wild gesticulating hands of the youngest Weasley brother, it seemed he was quite put out about Hermione having been talking to  _Marcus_.

"What did you think of Uncle Marcus's friend, Brita?" she asked, loud enough for her brother to hear.

"She was pretty," Brita said with a toothy smile. "Is she  _the_  Hermione Granger from the chocolate frog cards?" she asked, tugging at Marcus's hands eagerly. Chocolate frogs were a purely British treat that the little girl had been only too happy to indulge in at every chance she got.

Marcus nodded his head. "The very same. She was always brilliant while we were at school, so I'm not surprised that she got her own chocolate frog card," he explained.

Lavinia pursed her lips, wishing she could question Marcus freely, but she knew that the party was not the place for that. She'd only talked to Hermione briefly, but she approved. It wasn't as if the girl was a daft jersey chaser after her brother's money, and she didn't treat Marcus poorly as she initially feared. They honestly seemed to be just friends, though, if she was so bold, it was clear that they both wanted more. "We so rarely get to meet your friends, Marcus. You should invite Hermione over to the house for dinner sometime."

Her brother gave her a horrified look. "Oh, I don't know if we are quite ready for that. Hermione and I have only run into each other a handful of times," he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "I wouldn't want to frighten her off by making her hang out with my family the first time we purposefully see each other."

Lavinia smiled sweetly. "Well, maybe you should arrange to purposefully spend time together soon," she suggested with a smirk. "You wouldn't want her to think you don't want to spend time with her. Now introduce me to Adrian again. Sabina can't be the only one who lives in wedded bliss."

Marcus laughed heartily at that. "Oh, alright, I'll introduce you to Ades, but if you think for two seconds that he would want to marry you, I think you're in for a horrid shock," he teased. "You shoved him into a cupboard with a boggart one time. He wouldn't come back to the house for a month."

She gasped. "Did I really do all of that? Surely he'll have forgotten that, too," she said, hoping that he really would. She didn't remember being such an awful little brat, but then again, Marcus and his friends had been awful little brats, too.


	8. Birthday Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I know some of you are concerned about Lavinia, but I promise she is just looking out for Marcus. She doesn't want anyone to take advantage of him. You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter eight and be on the lookout for chapter nine tomorrow!

**November 1999**

After the baby shower, Hermione could no longer hide her friendship with Marcus Flint from her friends. Because after all, that's what it was, wasn't it? A friendship? They were friendly at the very least, and they'd each helped the other out more than a little bit when it came to gifting presents to one another. She looked forward to the idea of getting to speak with him again, see his face transform from it's permanent scowl to the lopsided smile he always seemed to wear when he looked at her.

But, telling Harry and Ron that she and Marcus were friends had not been  _nearly_  information from her. They had insisted on interrogating her like some kind of common criminal right in the middle of Daphne and Neville's party! Never before had she been so irritated by their auror training. Reluctantly, she'd explained how they'd run into one another and helped each other select presents, leaving out the bits at Hogwarts. She'd never told Ron about the Quidditch gloves and she hoped she'd never had to.

When she told them about her trip to the baby store, it had been enough to put a blush on the faces of Ginny, Ron  _and_  Susan Bones. Obviously, they were embarrassed that they hadn't remembered that as a muggleborn she'd probably be completely clueless about what to get Auggie. The thought that a Slytherin - and Marcus  _Flint_  at that - had been the one to assist her when they should have done it as her friends made them feel completely careless.

Hermione brushed them off from further questioning when Daphne and Neville had appeared at her side, but the new parents couldn't keep quiet about it either. "I didn't know you knew my cousin, Hermione," Daphne said brightly, offering Auggie over for her to hold. "I just knew this would be a great time for Neville and my friends to get to know one another."

It was nice to get some actual support of her new friendship, although it all seemed a bit silly. After all, she'd only spoken with Marcus a handful of times. It wasn't as if they'd been part of some secret romance behind her other friends backs. Still, Hermione could admit that she  _did_  find herself wanting to spend more time with him. He didn't expect anything out of her, expect her to be her smart self, always having all the answers. He didn't expect her to be the tireless muggleborn, always having to fight for herself. Instead, he treated her like she was any other person.

In the end, Daphne had squeezed her arm tightly. "I confess I find myself wanting to get to know  _you_  a bit better, Hermione," the blonde said with a genuine smile. "I know I haven't done a very good job of spending time with Neville's friends. We should get lunch sometime."

Hermione had left the party thinking that she wasn't likely to ever have lunch with the beautiful Daphne Longbottom. Instead, she thought their interactions were to be limited to casual meetings or parties, and only once Neville was involved as well.

But then, she'd gotten the hastily scrawled invitation from Marcus. His birthday was coming up, and he had invited her to come out to the pub after his Quidditch match. He was inviting some of his other friends as well, and assured her that Neville and Daphne had been invited as well. Her heart had fluttered excitedly in her chest while she thought about what it meant. Marcus had thought enough of her, wanted to see her enough, that he'd invited her to his birthday with all his Quidditch friends. Uncool, dorky, Hermione Granger.

She hadn't been able to wipe the smile off of her face.

It was a really sweet gesture, speaking to his desire to continue talking with her. She genuinely enjoyed the short conversations that they'd had so far, and she couldn't deny that were some sparks of attraction there for her. Marcus Flint was never going to be classically handsome, but there was something about his grey blue eyes and easy smile that was very attractive to her. Not to mention that he certainly had a physique many wizards would kill for.

She'd happily agreed to stop by for his party, only to immediately begin fussing about what she would want to wear and what she should get Marcus for his birthday. After all, friends got each other gifts didn't they? Hermione had agonized over it by herself for a few days before deciding to call for backup. Suddenly, she was more than pleased that Daphne Longbottom had wanted to spend more time with her.

br

Hermione sat at the sunny cafe waiting for Daphne to arrive, fiddling uselessly with her napkin in her lap. She had no idea why she would be so nervous about talking to Daphne in the first place, seeing as the blonde had been nothing but nice to her. Also, Neville loved her, and he was a genuinely good judge of character.

Before she could fret on it any longer, Daphne was sweeping in Auggie wrapped up in her arms. "I'm so sorry I am late, Hermione. Auggie was being so troublesome this morning," she said breathily, pressing a kiss to each of Hermione's cheeks.

"No worries, Daphne. I wasn't here long," she answered, hoping that Daphne didn't feel too badly about it. The two sat down and exchanged pleasantries, Hermione cooing over the adorable little boy who had a tuft of blond hair sticking out from under a little cap. His chubby cheeks were so cute, and Hermione couldn't stop telling Daphne this.

Auggie's mother laughed, agreeing wholeheartedly. "Yes, my mother would never give him back to me if I let her," she agreed, sea foam green eyes bright with laughter. "But, you didn't invite me to lunch to talk about Augustus. What's on your mind, Hermione?"

"Well, it's about Marcus," Hermione said, feeling her cheeks going a little pink once the words left her mouth. "He's invited me to his birthday party."

"Oh," Daphne said with a wide grin. "Well, that's not a surprise. I don't think I've ever seen my cousin looking so relaxed talking to a witch before. The pair of you seem to get along smashingly."

"Yes, I never would have guessed that we'd get on either," Hermione admitted, remembering how scary he'd seemed when she was just a third year. But, she'd quickly learned not to judge books by their covers as she'd grown up. "We haven't really spoken that much even, but I'd like to think that we are friends."

"Friends," Daphne agreed, though the smirk on her face seemed to suggest that she thought there was something more between the pair of them.

Hermione's blush deepened. "Yes, friends. However, I have recently learned that I perhaps don't know as much about pureblood traditions and customs as I should. I have absolutely no idea what to get him for a present. And I don't know what to wear. So I hoped that you might be able to assist me," she looked at Daphne hopefully for confirmation.

Adjusting Auggie to be in her lap, Daphne gave Hermione an easy smile. "Well, I can certainly help with an outfit. But, you really don't need to get Marcus a gift. It's just a bit of a casual party, and a present can be kind of a big step."

The brunette dropped her eyes to the drink in front of her, letting her fingers play with the straw while she thought it over. It was true that she and Marcus had only recently called whatever it was between them friendship, but she would feel bad if she didn't give him a gift, and so she told Daphne as much. "I think it would be appropriate to bring one. But, it doesn't have to be an extravagant gift. I was actually thinking I could just get him some of his favorite candy?"

"Oh," Daphne said, suddenly smiling. "You know Hermione, I actually think that will be the perfect gift. It shows that you are thoughtful, but it's not too big of a step either."

"So, you're Marcus's cousin," Hermione said pointedly. "Think you could let me in on the secret of his favorite candy?"

Daphne laughed brightly. "He adores the fudge at Fortescue's. It's his absolute favorites, so I am sure that he'd be very pleased to receive that," she revealed.

"And you can tell me what to wear? Am I expected to wear robes?" Hermione pressed, knowing that Daphne would lead her in the right direction. After all, the other witch as always so stylish, that she was the envy of many witches their age.

"Of course, I can," Daphne answered. "Don't worry about robes, it's not nearly so stuffy as the christening. Very casual, actually. I think that you wouldn't look out of place in a pair of smart trousers and a pretty blouse." Daphne's face was quickly transformed by a Slytherin smirk. "Though, if you wanted to impress Marcus, I think that a party dress wouldn't be out of place either."

Hermione's blush completely gave her away, though she denied the suggestion. "I don't want to  _impress_  Marcus, I just don't want to look out of place. We are  _just_  friends," she insisted, though it sounded a bit hollow. Yes, they might just be friends, but there was a small part of her that wanted to explore if there was a possibility of more.

"Alright, I'll pretend like I believe you," Daphne responded smartly. "But you  _must_  tell me how you and Marcus came to be friends in the first place. I must say I am dying of curiosity."

Hermione bit her lower lip, trying to think about how much she should reveal to Daphne. She was Marcus's cousin so she was able to give her some inside information, but she really didn't know the Slytherin that well at all, and there was a small part of her that was still worried that Pansy might appear to laugh at her. But then she reminded herself that Neville wouldn't have chosen to marry Daphne if she was that kind of mean girl.

Before she knew it, the whole story of how she'd first helped Marcus win Gemma Farley's heart came pouring out of her mouth. Daphne sat there riveted as Hermione described the way that Marcus had helped her with the Quidditch gloves for Ron. She explained how she'd sent the gloves to Marcus when Ron had paired off with Lavender and the way his little note had bolstered her spirits. Then she explained how they'd only just recently met again once he'd returned from Germany.

"That is so sweet," Daphne cooed when she was finally done explaining. "Honestly, though, everyone in Slytherin thought you were much better off without Ron. You two just weren't suited."

Hermione burst out laughing. "I didn't know that my love life was such a topic of conversation in the Slytherin Common Room."

"He would  _kill_  me if I told you this, but Theo used to have quite the crush on you Hermione," Daphne said with a mischievous grin on her face. "We all heard about you and Weasley together. And now, I think that Susan and Ron are well suited, and I am sure that you will find your special someone soon, too. If you haven't already."

"I...I do like spending time with Marcus," she answered, honestly, feeling good at the prospect of having another girl to gossip with. "But, I really don't know him that well yet. I'd like to get to know him better, though," she admitted with a blush. It felt so silly to reveal that she had a bit of a crush on the burly chaser when it seemed as though Daphne already knew it.

"Wear the dress then," the other girl said conspiratorial. "A little black dress that you look amazing in. I guarantee you that my cousin won't be able to keep his eyes off of you...same way he couldn't at the christening."

Hermione hoped that Daphne was right.


	9. Party Dress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows. Can you believe we are already at the halfway point of this story? I hope that you enjoy this chapter...and Marcus's reaction to that LBD! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter nine and be on the lookout for chapter ten on Monday. Have a great weekend :)

After hearing Daphne's suggestions she'd immediately gone around to the shop to find the perfect little black dress. She was sure that the new Mrs. Longbottom would have been horrified to learn that Hermione didn't actually have one hanging up in her closet already. She'd even bit the bullet and asked one of the sales girls to assist her in selecting a cut that would be the most flattering. The young woman had practically fallen over herself to help a war hero.

It had taken two hours, but Hermione had been happy with the outcome. Now, standing in front of her mirror, she was feeling a bit more nervous. The fabric seemed too clingy and the off-shoulder neckline exposed  _far_  more of her skin than she was used to. Objectively, she knew that she looked good, but it was just so out of the ordinary of what she normally wore and she hoped it wouldn't come across as though she was trying too hard. Pressing her shoulders back, Hermione tried to put on an air of confidence. If she was relaxed and comfortable, she was sure that none of the other guests would say anything.

Grabbing the neatly wrapped box of fudge on the way out, Hermione took one last look in the mirror before flooing over to the pub that Marcus had reserved for his birthday party. Immediately upon walking in, Hermione was quite amazed by all of the people who were there milling about. Her breath caught in her throat while she looked around the room, hoping to recognize someone she knew.

"Hermione! Over here!" Daphne called brightly, waving her hand over to wear she was standing with Neville and another older Slytherin boy who Hermione thought was named Pucey. "I am so glad that you came. You look  _amazing_ ," Daphne gushed, looking the Gryffindor girl up and down.

"Yes, Granger, I must say that you clean up nicely," the other boy said with a bit of a leer. "I don't know that we've ever been formally introduced," he said, offering a hand. "I'm Adrian Pucey."

"Hermione Granger," she responded, never wanting to be presumptuous about her celebrity as a war hero. "Pleased to meet you," she said, though she wasn't entirely sure if she  _was_  pleased to meet him the way that he was staring at her. Though, hopefully it would be an indication that Marcus would be pleased with her appearance as well.

"Neville, love, go get Hermione a drink!" Daphne chided, tapping her husband on the shoulder. "I might not be able to drink yet, but that doesn't mean that you can't," the blonde said sagely.

Neville wandered off, leaving Hermione in the presence of the two Slytherins, leaving her feeling rather out of place. She clutched the brightly wrapped gold box closer to her waist to try and keep it out of everyone else's view, while she let her eyes wander around the room for a gift table. Of course, there was none, which made her realize that she would have to give it directly to Marcus. Her heart began to sutter over what the exchange could bring. Would he appreciate it?

By the time that Neville returned and pressed a hearty glass of red wine into her hand, Adrian was busy regalling the girls with a play-by-play of Marcus's performance that day in the Quidditch match earlier that day. Apparently, he'd played quite well and his team was steadily climbing to the top of the table under Marcus's new leadership. Many of the fans had been quite skeptical about having him as a team member, but he'd done everything he could to try to prove the naysayers wrong. Even though Quidditch was not her normal conversation topic of choice, Hermione was excited to hear about how Marcus was settling in after being abroad for so long.

Still, she'd rather have heard it come from Marcus himself.

That thought made her realize that she hadn't seen a hint of Marcus since she'd arrived. The party was in full swing, but she was positive she would have caught sight of him previously, seeing as he was so large. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, before looking around the room more carefully, hoping that it didn't appear too obvious. She was sure people already had enough questions about why Hermione Granger of all people was at the party to begin with.

Subtlety was not her strong suit that night, apparently, as Adrian leaned in and whispered into her ear. "I think I saw him slip out round back not long before you arrived," he said, a knowing look in his brown eyes. Hermione blushed, but thanked him anyway, slipping away from the chatting trio in the direction of the back patio.

Marcus was standing against the wall of the pub, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. He seemed tired and exhausted. Upon hearing the door open, his head whipped around to see who was disturbing his peace, only to have his eyes widen when he saw it was  _her_. "Granger," he practically choked out. "You look good."

A smile tugged on the corner of her lips at his rather inelegant compliment. Still, she knew it was honest assessment - he wasn't just saying it to flatter her. "Thank you, Marcus," she said, a flush on her cheeks. "I have something for you," she said, stepping closer to him and hoping that she wouldn't slip in her new tall heels. Wrapping and arm around his middle, she gave him a quick hug, before pressing that package into his hands. "Happy Birthday," she said brightly.

He looked confused, but excited, when he took the package out of her hands, fingers easily tearing through the festive wrapping, only to reveal what was hidden behind. His face immediately lit up when he realized what it was. "Wow, these are my favorite," he said, grinning. "How did you know?"

Hermione shrugged. "I might have had a little help from one of our mutual acquaintances," she revealed, filing away a note to herself to send Daphne a quick thank you note. She was even more glad now that she had gotten him the present, even if it was simple, having seen his excited reaction. "I'm glad you like it."

"You know, I think you are the only person besides family who has gotten me a present for my birthday in years," he told her honestly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

She shrugged her shoulders, before moving to lean against the wall next to him. "Well, it's what friends do, isn't it?" she questioned, though she couldn't remember the last time that Ron or Harry had given her an actual present. "You'll just have to repay me next year," she teased.

The air was quite cold, even for a late November, and Hermione subconsciously moved closer to Marcus to siphon off some of his warmth. Even if it was cold, it was pleasant to be out here in the calm and quiet compared to the bustle of the party. She was curious as to why Marcus was hiding away outside when he could be inside enjoying his party. Maybe he'd just gotten hot? It was a bit warm in there.

Eventually, her curiosity won out. "What are you doing spending your birthday party alone out in the cold?" she questioned, turning her head slightly so she could read his expression.

Marcus was obviously conflicted, unsure if he should reveal his feelings. "It's kind of hard to be around my friends again," he said with a shrug. "A lot of them think I'm a coward for leaving during the war. I just didn't want to get pulled into something I didn't believe in. I just wanted to play Quidditch."

He was gauging her face for a reaction, but she wasn't sure what he was expecting to see. Did he expect her to agree with his friends just because she'd fought in the war? If she was honest with herself, she sometimes wished she could have gone somewhere else during the fighting. It would have saved her a lot of heartache and nerves at the least. But, in the end, she knew that she  _had_  to fight for what she believed in. "I don't think that's cowardly at all," she said, keeping her eyes down on the pavement in front of her. "I think joining a group like the Death Eaters if you don't believe in it to be pretty cowardly. I... often think about how a lot of this could have ended earlier if more people would have spoken up."

"You don't have to say that to try and make me feel better," he told her gently. "It won't hurt my  _feelings_."

"It's the truth though," Hermione responded, rounding on him so that she could look into his eyes. "I have to work with people like Warrington all the time at work, and it just makes me annoyed. It doesn't help that he is useless as well."

Marcus snorted, trying to hide a grin. "Hey, he isn't completely useless. He does alright at chaser, and I hear that the girls are really into him."

Hermione pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. "I guess if he's your type. I find him rather boorish. And he is a terrible liaison with the goblins, but really, what can you do about it?" she revealed. "So, why did you have the big party if you don't actually like any of them in there? Are any of them your friends for real?"

"I had the party because it was expected that I have one. It's not that I don't like them, just that it feels awkward to be around them all. I sometimes feel like the only reason any of them are around me is because I play Quidditch still," Marcus told her. "And, I do really like Adrian. He's a good bloke."

"Well, he was singing your praises to me out there. So I think the feeling is mutual," Hermione teased, before taking an unconscious step closer to him. "Although, I would rather have heard about your win from you rather than a third party."

"Really?" Marcus asked, a surprised look on his face. With his head slightly cocked to the side, Hermione thought he looked rather cute. "Hermione Granger, hater of Quidditch, wants to hear about my game, eh?"

"I don't need the full play by play," Hermione said with a shrug. "But the highlights would be nice." It was true that she would happily listen to Marcus talk about Quidditch  _in reason_. She remembered the way he'd described the gloves to her and how he hadn't tried to dumb any of it down for her just because she was muggleborn. There was something about his enthusiasm that was quite infectious. And, it was obviously something he cared about. A good friend would listen to what the other friend was interested in, right?

She listened patiently while he gave her the very briefest of highlights of the game. The longer he talked, the more relaxed he became, a fond look on his face. It made her stomach do delighted flip-flops to her surprise. But, before long, she was shivering.

"You look cold," Marcus said succinctly. "We should get back inside," he said authoritatively, his hand moving to wrap around her shoulders, only to pull back at the last possible second. Instead, he shoved it in the pocket of his trousers.

Just as they were about to reach the door to walk back into the pub, Marcus hesitated. "Say, Hermione," he started, his eyes trained on his feet. "Ades is having a New Years Eve party this year. Would you maybe...like to go to it with me?" he finished hopefully.

Hermione could feel her heart pounding in her chest, excitement filling her body. She couldn't stop the smile from lighting up her face. "I would love to," she said with a grin. The invitation definitely sounded like a date.

She would need Daphne's help to get another dress.


	10. Fireworks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! Sorry this chapter took so long to get out this morning...I had a bit of an usual day and had a couple of errands to take care of before I leave for my trip next week. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter ten and be on the lookout for chapter eleven tomorrow!

Hermione smoothed the fabric of her gold dress. Daphne had really outdone herself when she'd asked the blonde girl for help with picking out something that would be appropriate to wear to a pureblood party. It suited her figure and her complexion perfectly, while still being festive. She just hoped that it would wow Marcus that same way she had at his party.

She'd been looking forward to New Years since he first asked her. He'd owled her the next day with details on how to floo over to Adrian's, where he said he would meet her. However, the invitation meant that she had to tell Ron, Harry and Ginny that she would  _not_  be able to attend their party at Grimmauld Place like she had the year previous.

Harry and Ginny had been understanding, but Ron...hadn't taken it too well. He had insisted on knowing where she was going and with who, which had escalated into a full screaming match in the middle of the Ministry of Magic that had been more than a little embarrassing. Eventually, she convinced him that he had absolutely no say in her  _love life_ , the last phrase whispered in embarrassment.

She wasn't sure what exactly was going on between her and Marcus, and while she was quite eager to see where it was going to go, she did not want it to be discussed in public by coworkers and strangers alike. Maybe she'd completely misread the situation and Marcus wasn't interested in her at all, and instead was just honestly interested in friendship. She couldn't imagine how embarrassing it would have seemed if she'd read into his intentions wrong  _and_  Ron had announced it to the entire Ministry.

But now that New Years Eve had actually arrived, Hermione was ready to make the best possible impression in case he was interested in more than just friendship. She'd taken the time to wrangle her hair, which was really much more manageable now that she was an adult. Her makeup was quite a bit more dramatic than her usual everyday look, but she thought it looked sexy and nice. Her new gold dress was eagerly donned, as had the tall nude heels she'd selected for the evening. Now, the only thing left to her was to see what Marcus thought of the overall effect.

When the time finally came to head over to the party, Hermione had to take several deep breaths before calling out the floo address, lest she tumble into someone else's house. The loud, pounding music signaled to her that she had in fact showed up at the right spot.

Adrian Pucey's flat was practically filled to the brim with people, with a spontaneous dance floor popping up in the center of his living room. Looking around, Hermione didn't see Marcus in the general area of the fireplace, and she immediately felt overwhelmed and out of place. Nearly all of the raucous guests were Slytherins and Ravenclaws a few years older than her - not the typical cohort that she would chose to spend time with. Perhaps this was a mistake, and she should just go before anyone noticed her?

Just when she was making up her mind to turn around and go, Adrian Pucey was waltzing over to her, pressing a wet kiss to her cheek and a glass of champagne into her hand. "Granger!" he shouted over the loud music. "Lovely to see you again!"

"Yes, sorry to show up without an invitation," Hermione shouted back. Adrian tapped his ear as if he couldn't hear her, only to pull her closer to him so that she would speak into his ear. She cringed at feeling his sweaty back through the fabric of his shirt. "Marcus invited me! Do you know where he is?"

The party host pulled away, giving her a broad grin, before nodding. Tucking his arm around her back, being entirely too forward, if Hermione was honest, he lead her through the intoxicated party goers towards a study. Pushing the door in, he revealed Marcus, sitting and chatting with a few other guys who had been on the Slytherin Quidditch squad while she was at school, including Warrington, Higgs, Montague and Bletchley.

The men seemed quite surprised to see her walking through the door with Adrian. Warrington practically choked on his firewhiskey and couldn't stop staring at her legs. Adrian walked her towards Marcus, before taking her hand and pressing it into his friend's. "Marcus, I bring to you your lady," Adrian shouted with a wink, his ears still ringing from the noise in the main room.

Marcus gave her hand a squeeze, before tugging her gently down to sit next to him on the leather couch. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her body closer to him. She immediately felt more comfortable being cocooned in his comforting presence, his scent filling her nose. Taking a large sip of her champagne, she crossed her legs demurely at the ankle.

"Oi, why are you giving her to him?" Warrington asked belligerently. "What do I gotta do to get a little party favor?" The other men snickered at Warrington's outburst.

"I'm not  _giving_  her to him," Adrian said sharply, with a drawl that Hermione recognized from Malfoy. "He invited her."

"Oh, so you'll go on a date with this troll, but not me, Granger?" Warrington asked, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

Hermione gave him a tight smile. "Marcus is not a troll, Cassius. And I've told you numerous times why we cannot date. We are work colleagues and it wouldn't be appropriate," she explained, as though he were a child. She didn't think it would be appropriate to discuss the fact that his attentions at work frequently crossed the boundary into sexual harassment, and a fact which she had brought up to her supervisor multiple times. Unfortunately, the wizarding world had a lot of catching up to do in terms of rights for workers, but in the meantime, she wasn't above using a few hexes and jinxes to keep him at bay.

Cassius snorted into his firewhiskey, before finishing the rest of what was in his glass in one swallow. He stood up, slightly swaying on his feet. "Excuse me, I think that I'll just go get another drink," he said darkly, before heading towards the door, Adrian following after him.

"You'll have to forgive Cass," Higgs said apologetically. "I'm afraid his old friends with benefits showed up tonight with one of his big rivals, so he's been in a bit of a mood all night."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but nodded in agreement. She bit her lip to stop from commenting, wondering why if he cared so much about the girl, didn't he tell her he wanted more when he had the chance. It also didn't stop the fact that he was very rude to her at work.

The conversation that the Slytherin men were having quickly resumed, and to her surprise it wasn't about Quidditch as she would have expected. Instead, Higgs was regalling them with his plans of the grand tour he was planning on taking in the new year, with the other men adding countries he should see and which places had the hottest witches.

Hermione found herself without much to add to the conversation, and instead looked around the room. It was really a sumptuous study, one should couldn't ever imagine having, but very nice nonetheless. The fireplace was roaring with a fire that made the whole room seem cheery and warm. It was easy to lie her head against Marcus's shoulder and listen to the rumble of his voice as he described the best places to go in Germany. This wasn't exactly how she would have expected her evening to go, but it was still nice.

Just when she was beginning to feel utterly bored, Marcus whispered into her ear. "Ades has got a firework display prepared for the midnight. Want to go out on the balcony to watch it?" he questioned, his voice a low rumble.

Hermione glanced around the room, seeing that the other three men were quite engrossed in their own conversation, and nodded quickly. She wanted to spend some of the night talking with Marcus. He stood from the couch before helping her up from her spot. They were able to slip out of the study without much notice.

Marcus grabbed them each a fresh glass of champagne from a floating tray, before leading her towards a side door. The shock of cold air was refreshing and cleared Hermione's head of the cotton that had taken residence in her head. The balcony seemed to wrap around the whole penthouse, though it was segmented. Marcus had taken her to one of the smaller balconies, away from the area where most of the revelers were gathering. Instead, it was just the two of them.

She smiled at the thoughtfulness, and wondered if he'd been wanting to have some alone time to chat as well. She cast a warming charm on the pair of them, before standing to rest against the railing so she could get a good look at the sky. The fireworks were just beginning to go off, and Hermione was delighted to see that they were Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

"I'm sorry that I've been such a shite date tonight," Marcus said, his eyes focused down at the glass in his hand. "I'm sure you were expecting more than to just sit around and listen to us talk."

Hermione pursed her lips. It  _was_  true that it wasn't her ideal night, but she still wasn't sure if she'd classify him as a shite date. "I would have liked to get to talk to you more, but it certainly wasn't the worst date I've ever been on," she revealed with a shrug of her shoulders. A brilliant gold colored firework went off, making her gasp in surprise. George had really outdone himself with this one.

Marcus took a step closer to her, his arm pressed against her shoulder while he lookout out into the inky blackness of the night, punctuated by the bright flashes of color. Several gold and red fireworks combined together to form into a dragon, similar to the one that had chased Umbridge back when they were in Hogwarts. He cleared his throat nervously. "Well, do you think that...in order to make it up to you, I could take you on a proper date?" he asked hesitantly. "The whole nine yards - I'll pick you up instead of having Adrian bring you to me, take you out to dinner, walk you back?"

She turned to look up at him. Hermione was surprised to see him looking so vulnerable, as if he really thought that she would say no. It was true that tonight  _hadn't_  been perfect, but she did still want to see what could happen between the two of them. It wasn't as if she wouldn't give him a second chance, and told him as much. "That would be really nice," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

The noise from the other balcony was growing louder. Hermione blinked, realizing that they were all beginning the countdown to the New Year. Feeling confident, she looked up at the large man. "You know...there is a muggle tradition," she said softly, never taking her eyes off of his. "Of kissing someone when the clock strikes midnight on New Years Eve. To help ring in the New Year."

Marcus looked down at her from his height advantage, swallowing thickly. Hermione watched his adam's apple bob up and down in anticipation, listening to the numbers grow lower and lower. When they got to "one" he leaned down abruptly, pressing his lips to hers chastely. He lingered a moment, their lips fitting together perfectly. Inside, Hermione felt her stomach do those excited somersaults, never wanting the moment to end.


	11. Peony Petals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I know you all are excited for the date so let's just get into it! You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter eleven and be on the lookout for chapter twelve tomorrow!

**January 2000**

Hermione fiddled at the tiny vanity in her room, waiting for Marcus to show up at her flat to take her to dinner. She'd been ready for over an hour, but it was still not the agreed upon time for him to come and pick her up for their date. She was  _always_  punctual to a fault, but now she wished she had some task to occupy her mind with. Instead, she had nothing to focus on and decided to put perfume on for the  _third_  time that night. It was a lovely scent - fresh roses with a hint of bergamot - and she hoped that Marcus would find it pleasing but not over power.

She wasn't sure why she was so nervous. She had been really looking forward to the date, as she'd told Ginny over tea earlier that week, but as the selected day had creeped closer and closer, she found herself getting more and more anxious.

Perhaps it was knowing that it was going to be just the two of them. The last few times they'd seen one another it had been at parties, and there were many other people to divert yourself with, should you chose to. But now, all the pressure would be on them to carry the conversation. Shaking her head, she knew that she and Marcus had had no trouble at all coming up with things to talk about thus far...surely they'd be able to fill an hour or two? At the very least, she could always fall back on asking him about Germany. It seemed like he had a lot to say on the subject at New Years.

Just as she thought she was going to go a bit spare, she heard a knock at the door to her flat. Jumping up, Hermione gave herself in a quick once over in the mirror, making sure that her elegant plum colored wrap dress hadn't wrinkled. She padded over to the door, giving Crookshanks a scratch as she passed him.

When she opened the door, she didn't see anyone at all. Feeling a bit confused, Hermione was about to close the door when an arm appeared from the hallway. A smile formed on her face when she saw that the hand was holding a single flower - a coral colored peony. Laughing, Hermione eagerly took the offered flower and brought it to her nose. The scent was lovely, and she was sure that it had been fresh cut.

As she looked up from the flower, Marcus Flint was standing in her doorway with a sheepish look on his face. He had obviously put a lot of care into selecting his outfit for the evening, and it was  _very_  flattering to his form. Tall and strong, the jacket he wore showed off his broad shoulders and strong arms. It was true that he was not classically handsome, but there was something about the hint of scruff on his jawline and his boyish smile that had Hermione's insides stirring with want.

"Please come in," she offered, standing aside, so that he could enter the flat. "I'll just put this in a vase. Peonies are  _my_ favorite. How did you know?" she wondered. Ron had known her for nearly ten years, and when they dated he'd never even bothered to find out her preferred flower.

A hint of a blush formed on his cheeks, making her smile. She was always so surprised and impressed that she had the ability to make this man blush in any capacity. "Well, I might have had to go 'round and ask Neville," he revealed. "He's a good friend to you," he added afterwards.

Hermione was incredibly touched by the gesture, knowing that he'd gone out of his way to ensure she got a flower she truly wanted, rather than just selecting a classic red rose. Pulling down one of the vases she'd inherited from her grandmother, Hermione put the flower in some water, knowing that she was going to cherish it. She might even have to press it in a book for safe keeping.

She moved to the couch, summoning her boots to pull on. Heels were nice, but it just wasn't practical if they were going to be doing any amount of walking outside, seeing as there was quite an impressive layer of snow outside for London. "Let me just throw my boots on and then we can go," she said with a grin. "Feel free to sit down if you'd like."

Marcus hesitated for a moment, before deciding on standing at the door. Hermione thought it was cute how nervous he seemed standing in her flat. After all, he was a  _professional_ Quidditch player. Surely he had loads of witches lining up to try and date him, even if it was only for the money? She figured he would be used to the whole song and dance of dating, but based on his nerves, it seemed that maybe he wasn't as practiced as she'd imagined.

When she was ready to go, she took his offered arm. "Well, where did you have in mind for dinner, Mr. Flint?" she teased.

"I hope you don't mind, but I thought we might go to my favorite pub in Falmouth?" he questioned. "I thought that we would attract less...attention there. Not that I don't want to be seen with you, but just...I figured you wouldn't like people watching you eat."

Hermione nodded. "That's very thoughtful of you Marcus. It's true that the photographers seem to follow me wherever I go, and I hate having my love life speculated about in the papers, especially once Ron and I split up," she explained.

"I'd love to hear that story," he said honestly.

She sighed, knowing that it was probably a good idea to talk about eventually. "It's a long story. I can tell you once we get to dinner," she offered, knowing that they would never get a meal if she tried to describe it at her flat.

Marcus nodded, apparating them to a street corner in Falmouth, in front of a pub. He guided her inside the cozy building, leading her towards the back. The back wall overlooked the little bay that Falmouth was nestled against, giving it a beautiful view.

"Wow, I can see why this is your favorite spot," Hermione said appreciatively. "It's gorgeous."

"Just wait until you try the food," he answered with a grin, before helping her to her seat. Once she was settled, he walked to the bar to grab them drinks and a menu. "Now, I think you were going to tell me all about Weasley," he pressed, obviously curious.

With a pint in her hand, Hermione jumped right into the story of how he'd made out with Lavender Brown in front of all of Gryffindor after a game, and how that lead to her sending him the gloves. It seemed so silly to her now, but it had been utterly heartbreaking at the time. She was happy to report to him just how much his note had meant to her, and how she'd frequently looked at it through the years, in particular when they'd been hunting horcruxes and Ron had left them. It was harder to explain that she and Ron had kissed during the final battle, that they'd tried to give dating a shot once the war was over. She was afraid that Marcus wouldn't understand what she meant when she explained that she and Ron had wanted different things.

To her surprise, though, he seemed to know exactly what she meant. "I know it probably seems silly for a professional Quidditch player to say, but the one thing I don't really enjoy is all of the fame," he said, with a shrug of his shoulders. "I mean...I love the fans, of course, it just makes me feel like I'm always being watched."

By the time that they'd completely hashed out the Ron situation -  _and_  once Marcus told her how things had ended with Gemma - their food had arrived, and Hermione was only too happy to tuck in.

Marcus asked her about her work, knowing only that she worked vaguely in the Ministry and in some capacity with Cassius. Hermione was happy to explain what she did for the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures. While Marcus confessed that he found reading through old laws to be quite boring, he also knew that what she was doing was noble. Werewolves were often turned against their will and they shouldn't be punished for something they had absolutely no control over. And, while he hadn't been much of a student while he was at Hogwarts, it wasn't as if he was unintelligent.

Hermione  _finally_  felt as if she was able to open up to someone about the dissatisfaction she felt working at the Ministry, with the endless paperwork and bureaucracy. He didn't snark at her that she was Hermione Granger and should  _love_  doing paperwork. Instead, he listened thoughtfully and tried to explain some of the cultural oddities of the Wizengamot.

"My father was really invested in the family seat," he explained. "But Max and I don't really have the head for it."

"Is Max your brother?" she questioned, eager to learn more about his family.

"Yes, he's the oldest.  _Maximus_. Then, Sabina, Lavinia, and I'm the baby," he explained, counting them out on his fingers. "Brita is Max's oldest daughter, and he has another one called Lotte. And my nephew Henrik just turned three. Their mother is Norwegian, you see."

"And do you like them? Children, I mean?" Hermione asked, before focusing her eyes on her half-eaten cheeseburger. She couldn't bear to look at his face after asking such a personal question.

"Yeah, they're pretty fun to be around," he said. From his tone of voice, she could tell he was smiling. "Henrik is at a pretty cool age, but Lotte always wants to play tea party, and I don't quite fit at her table, so she isn't as interested in me. Sabina just announced that she's due in May, so I suppose there will be another little baby around soon enough."

Hermione laughed along with him when Marcus explained his eccentric brother-in-law Gustavo, who always wanted to argue the merits of playing a Portuguese style of Quidditch. She could tell that he wasn't the biggest fan of the other man. However, she didn't think she could tell the difference between British and Portuguese Quidditch even if she tried.

Marcus in turn asked her about her family. "I'm an only child," Hermione told him, a bit of melancholy in her voice. "During the war, I actually...obliviated my parents and sent them to Australia. They were able to get their memories back, but they were quite cross with me, and they've decided to remain there." By the end, her voice was cracking, and she hoped she didn't cry in front of him in the pub!

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Marcus said with a frown. "I should have known better than to ask..."

"It's okay," she insisted. "Our relationship  _is_  warming, just...it will take time for them to trust me again, I know. They instinctively know it was for their own good, but I think they hate how much about the war I kept hidden from them."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, again pulling her into an awkward side hug. "You were just trying to go what was right for your family," he offered softly. She took a deep breath, letting his words really sink in. It  _was_  true, after all.

After that, they kept their conversation more light, and Hermione was surprised to learn how easily Marcus could make her laugh. She was sure that her sides would ache the next day. It was a pleasant...well, more than pleasant actually. It was a  _fantastic_  date. She never wanted it to end. But, by the time the pub was closing up for the night, she knew that she had to go home.

Marcus reluctantly apparated her back to her door, before giving her a searing kiss that was over  _far_  too quickly. Still, they agreed that they should definitely do it again soon. When she fell into bed, Hermione quickly drifted off to sleep, with a smile on her face.


	12. Bruised Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so thrilled that you guys are liking this sweet fluff. It's so different from my usual drama filled works. This chapter is basically as dramatic as the whole story gets. You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter twelve and be on the lookout for chapter thirteen tomorrow!

**March 2000**

After how well their first date had gone, Marcus and Hermione eagerly agreed to see each other again in the near future. In the following weeks, numerous owls were exchanged, setting up plans for dinners, drinks and even one weekend brunch. Hermione found herself enjoying each and every interaction that they had, to her surprise. She never would have expected her and Marcus to be so compatible, seeing as they had different interests and careers, but something about them just seemed to work.

So, she found herself looking forward to spending time with Marcus more and more, longing for the times when they were together when they were apart.

People had noticed, as well. She'd stopped by the Longbottoms for a dinner not long after their first date and Daphne had instantly known. Neville was surprised, but wasn't judgemental seeing as he had his own Slytherin spouse.

She'd even met Marcus's other sister, Sabina, once. They'd been out in Falmouth when they ran into Sabina and her husband, who quickly invited themselves to a double date. Hermione could certainly understand what Marcus's complaints about Gustavo were, but overall, she'd enjoyed herself immensely. Sabina had announced at the end of the dinner how thoroughly she approved of Hermione. It was unexpected praise, but welcome nonetheless.

Ginny had noticed how Hermione was noticeably happier one evening spent at Grimmauld Place. She'd ended up as the fifth wheel, with Susan and Ron coming as well, but even that hadn't been able to shake her good mood. The redheaded girl had eagerly pressed her for details on who the new guy in her life was, but she wasn't ready to share her secret yet. She  _knew_  that Ron wouldn't take it well, and she frankly wasn't ready for that conversation.

But, after two months of dating, it felt as though it was finally the right time to introduce Marcus to her friends. The group decided to meet up at the Leaky Cauldron for drinks one weekend, and Hermione quietly mentioned that she would be bringing someone. Ginny was intrigued, but neither of the boys seemed too bothered by her statement, if they noticed it at all.

Marcus had been nervous to meet her friends, but she promised that they would be nice, if a bit awkward. They could always leave early if he was feeling uncomfortable, she insisted, telling him that she spent time with them  _all_  the time, so she really just wanted to spend time with him. The pair of them dressed casually for the evening, though Hermione had quickly learned that it was difficult for Marcus to just  _blend_   _in_  on account of his large stature.

Wanting to let her break the ice a bit, Marcus immediately headed to the bar to get drinks, while Hermione went in search of her friends. Once she found them, Ron immediately made note of her single presence. "Oi, I thought you said you were bringing someone," the pointed out loudly, so everyone would hear. "Get stood up?"

Hermione winced, wondering why Ronald always had to be cruel. She knew he was very insecure in general, but she had thought that their relationship had ended amicably. There was no need for him to hold such animosity for her love life, but he always found a way to delight in the fact that she was single and he was not.

Before she could answer, he found Marcus in the crowd. "Flint is here?" he questioned, just as loudly. "I wonder what the hell that troll is doing here?"

"Marcus is  _not_  a troll, Ronald," Hermione snapped sharply before she could stop herself. She hated the way that people seemed to perpetuate that slur about Marcus. Sure, he was not the most book smart of people, but he was not troll like at all. Not to mention, as he'd gotten older, his looks could not ever be described as troll-like.

Marcus was at her side and offering her a pint by the time that the puzzle pieces clicked into place for Ron. Her redheaded friend sneered up at Marcus before giving her a disappointed glare. "Please tell me you didn't actually bring Flint, Hermione?" he groaned. "He's a Slytherin!"

"Neville  _married_  a Slytherin, and I don't see you complaining about her whenever they come around," she countered.

"Yeah, well that's because she's hot!" Ron blustered.

Hermione rolled her eyes, annoyed that he could be reduced to such a caveman level of thinking. "Well,  _I_  happen to think that Marcus is quite fit!" she announced proudly. Her cheeks quickly colored red in embarrassment as people turned to look. Marcus did not appear to be too bothered and pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek.

Ron made a noise of disgust before mumbling something about using the loo, turning on his heel, and stomping away, leaving an embarrassed Susan behind. "I'm sorry about him," Hermione whispered to Marcus. "He's always been...unreasonable about me dating anyone, but him. Nevermind the fact that he has a girlfriend."

With that hopefully smoothed over, Hermione plastered a smile on and steered Marcus in the direction of Harry and Ginny. Her two friends were looking at her cautiously, but not hostilely. "Harry, Gin, you guys remember Marcus from school?" she asked cautiously. "He and I have been...seeing each other for a while."

"Seeing each other?" Harry asked. Sometimes he could be nearly as obtuse as Hermione in social situations.

"Flint, good to see you again," Ginny said brightly. "Though, I must say I never would have guessed that the wizard who has made Hermione so happy lately is  _you_ ," she added, sounding pleasantly surprised. "We are always looking for another person to play in our pick up Quidditch games at the Burrow."

Marcus raised his eyebrows in surprise at Ginny's warm invitation. "Wouldn't that be a bit unfair? I'd wipe the floor with the likes of your brother playing keeper," he quipped playfully, clearly not thinking much of Ron's prospects as Quidditch player at all.

"That's only if you could get the quaffle away from me to begin with," Ginny sing-songed brightly. Seeing as she was also a professional Quidditch player for the Hollyhead Harpies, and at Marcus's position no less, Hermione was sure that the pair of them would have plenty of friendly banter and trash talk between them. "And I'm sure that George would love to break out the old beater's bat again if he had the chance to get you off your broom."

Harry laughed heartily at the suggestion. "It's just a backyard game, Ginny," he playfully scolded his wife. "There are no bludgers involved usually. I must say, you had a great game last week, from what the papers say. Is the league still the same from before you left for Germany?"

Quidditch seemed a safe opening topic for Marcus, and he quickly eased into the conversation, talking tactics with Harry and Ginny. Hermione felt her heart swell when she saw how they were getting along tentatively. Of course, it wasn't as if they would instantly become best friends, but she knew it must have been difficult for Marcus to talk to her friends. Although Harry was humble to a fault, she knew that he could also be very intimidating. Now, if only she could get Ron to come around too.

Leaving the trio to talk more about the latest broom release, Hermione found herself engaging Susan in a conversation about the latest Ministry proposals. Susan had ambitions to take after her Aunt Amelia, who had been a casualty of the war. They rarely crossed paths in their day to day lives, but Hermione found a kindred spirit in Susan over their shared hatred of tedious and pointless paperwork.

Eventually, Ron came skulking back, slinging a possessive arm around Susan's shoulders. He scoffed when he saw Ginny spit out some beer at something Marcus said. "Hermione, I really think you are making a mistake with that one," he said, rolling his eyes. "He's a sneaky snake, and you really should be careful around him, you know, being a muggleborn and all of that."

All of the happiness Hermione had been feeling was sapped from her by Ron's rude insinuation. "Marcus  _and_  his family have never treated me with anything but respect even though...being muggleborn and all of that," she parrotted his words.

"Hermione, in this case, you should just listen to me. They're an old, pureblood family, and they are just prejudiced. They can't help it," he whined.

"The only one being prejudiced here, is you, Ron," she said, glaring at him. She didn't think that he was being well meaning at all. Instead, it seemed like he just wanted to break something that  _she_  liked, simply because she liked it. "The Weasleys are an old, pureblood family. Are you lot prejudiced against muggleborns?"

At hearing her increasingly shrill voice, Marcus came to stand by her side, his presence instantly making her feel more at ease. Turning to look at her with concern in his blue eyes, he checked to see if she was okay. "Is everything alright here?" he questioned.

"Oh look, it's the  _troll_ , here to save the day," Ron snarled. "Keep out of it, Flint. This is between me and Hermione."

Marcus stepped between her and Ron, obviously trying to help, but only serving to fan the flames. "If it is making Hermione upset, it concerns me, Weasley," he said cooly.

Hermione was glad that he didn't resort to name calling like Ron had, but she didn't need him to fight any of her battles for her, least of all with one of her oldest friends. She pressed a small hand to his shoulder, trying to get him to face her once again. "It's alright, Marcus, just ignore him. He's being jealous."

"Oh, what would I have to be  _jealous_  of?" Ron questioned desperately. "He's a Slytherin! He's a baby Death Eater who was too cowardly to actually take the mark," he needled, not knowing what those words meant to Marcus.

The much larger man took a step closer to Ron, looking down his nose at him. "Shut your fucking mouth, Weasley. You don't know what you're talking about," he snarled, reminding Hermione more of his on-pitch behavior.

Knowing that this was escalating well out of her control, Hermione stepped out from behind Marcus, throwing Harry a desperate look for him to  _do something_  about Ronald's behavior. "Please, Marcus, let's just go," Hermione said sweetly, trying to get his attention back on her. "Ron is clearly in a mood and it won't do any good to try and reason with him."

Just as she thought that Marcus was going to agree to leave with her, Ron couldn't resist getting another insult in. "Don't you see that he's just using you, Hermione?" Ron taunted cruelly, unable to read Marcus's increasingly irate mood. "He needs your good reputation to get the Death Eater filth off of him."

Marcus's arm was swinging back before she could even recognize it, connecting with Ron's cheek in a meaty punch. Ron was clearly not expecting such a muggle style attack from a wizard, and was completely surprised by the contact. It sent her friend sprawling back against the table, his lager spilling everywhere before shattering when the glass hit the ground. Before Ron could even stand up, Marcus was swinging at him again, this time catching him beneath the jaw.

"Marcus! Stop it!" Hermione called, trying to get his attention. She was mad that he would hit her friend, even though she thought that Ron deserved it. She was mad that Marcus hadn't just listened to her to leave it alone and return to her flat with her. Tears formed in her eyes. Oh, the night had been going so well, if only Ron hadn't opened his big, fat mouth.

Instead of listening to her, Marcus was pushing Ron back down on the table every time he tried to grapple his way back up. A sob escaped from her lips, realizing how terrible everything had gone, and furious with Marcus, she didn't know what to do. In seemed that the only logical option was to retreat to the safety of her flat.

Alone.


	13. Bloody Knuckles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! He last chapter had such a big response, but of course we all seemed to think that Ron deserved a punch. Now, the make up. You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirteen and be on the lookout for chapter fourteen tomorrow!

Hermione shocked Crookshanks when she came storming back into her flat, still crying hard. He had been curled up on top of her radiator, having a very cozy sleep, clearly not expecting his witch back for several hours yet. And with how well things usually went with Marcus, she could understand why.

It was too bad that tonight had gone to absolute shite.

Tugging her coat and her purse from her body, she dropped them by the door, before making a beeline to the couch. "I'm sorry for frightening you, Crooks," she said, pathetically. The ginger cat came and ran his body between her legs to comfort her. Wiping at her cheeks furiously, she felt embarrassed about the way that she'd left the pub. "I just had to get out of there, Crooks. I thought things might actually work between Marcus and my friends..."

Her half-kneazle jumped up onto the couch beside her, butting his head against her hand, wanting to be pet. Hermione scratched him between the years, and he yowled back at her in approval. Or maybe he was just trying to give her relationship advice.

She had barely gotten comfortable on the couch when a desperate pounding had her door rattling on the hinges. When she didn't immediately answer, the person on the other side knocked again, this time more reasonably.

"Hermione, please let me in," Marcus's voice came muffled from the otherside of the wood. He swore under his breath, making her giggle, despite herself.

Standing up from the couch, she unlocked the door, opening it halfway to get a look at the wizard she'd been dating. She stared up at him defiantly, unashamed to let him see her puffy and red eyes. "What do you want?" she questioned, her voice sounding more confident than she felt.

"To talk to you," he said honestly. He wasn't always the most astute person when it came to reading people's emotions, but he had figured out that he'd upset Hermione. "I want to understand what I did wrong. Please can I come in?"

She sighed, before opening the door the rest of the way, letting the massive man in. Closing the door, she whirled around, only to see him cradling his hand against his chest. The knuckles were bleeding and bruised, and she was sure that he was in a fair amount of pain. Unbidden, she gasped at the sight. "That  _must_  hurt. Come on, let's get you patched up," she said imperiously, a reminder of the bossy girl she'd once been coming out.

Hermione lead him through her bedroom and into her bathroom. Even though they'd been on lots of dates, Marcus still hadn't seen her room, and was intrigued for a look around. He didn't get as much time as he wanted before he was shuffled into the tiny ensuite. Hermione took his hand in her's, inspecting the injury to see what it would require.

"Are you going to tell me what I did wrong?" he asked, sounding more helpless than irritated.

"Marcus, you punched my friend," she said flatly. "Several times. I asked you to stop, to just leave it, and you couldn't do it." A wave of her wand had fixed the one broken knuckle that she found.

"Yes, but you heard the awful things he was saying," he argued back, hissing when she brought a wet rag to the broken skin on his knuckle, gently wiping away the blood. "He's a bloody tosser, Hermione, and I don't know how you let him treat you like that."

She sighed, her shoulders carrying a lot of tension. "You learn to get used to it. He frequently says things that are hurtful, but he always regrets it," she revealed, knowing that most of the hurts she'd experienced had been caused by Ronald Weasley. Sure, there had been other bullies too - Malfoy, of course - but it always seemed so much worse when it came from your own friend. "In any case, I don't want people who start brawls in pubs in my life. That's not the kind of person I choose to surround myself with," she scolded.

Marcus was unhappy with that answer. "So why does Weasley get a pass then?" he asked, watching numbly as another wave of her wand had a bandage wrapped tightly around his hand. "You choose to keep him as a friend."

"Yes, but I choose to keep  _you_  as my boyfriend," she answered immediately, unbidden.

The words had bubbled up from her lips without thinking. A blush formed on her cheeks as the word  _boyfriend_ hung between them in the silence. She kept her eyes firmly on the center of his chest, unwilling to look up and see the expression on his face. Though they had been going on a lot of dates...they were dating...they had never discussed any labels for what was going on between them. They had never talked about being exclusive to one another. Suddenly, Hermione was quite worried that  _she_  had ruined the evening with her presumptions. What if Marcus didn't want something that serious with her? Maybe he was just looking to have a bit of fun. Afterall, he was a professional Quidditch player, and he could get practically any witch that he wanted.

He brought his hand up to grab her chin, gently encouraging her to look up at his face. Forcing herself to grab every ounce of Gryffindor courage that she had, Hermione kept her eyes open. To her immense surprise, Marcus didn't look annoyed or like he was going to make fun of her. Instead, he looked immensely pleased and there was a heat in the grey-blue of his irises.

No words were passed between them, and instead he dipped his head down capturing her lips in a kiss that made her head spin. Gasping, Marcus eagerly took advantage of the opportunity of her parted lips to deepen the kiss. Hermione moaned into him, thinking that this was a twist she didn't expect her evening to take, but enjoying it immensely.

He dropped his hands to her waist, easily lifting her up and setting her to sit on the edge of the counter. Hermione pressed her hands to his arms, feeling the taut muscles work, letting herself enjoy his form (and not for the first time). With her weight supported by the sink, she eagerly parted her legs, allowing him to step between them, before pulling to her rest flush against him. She shuddered at knowing that only a few layers of fabric separated them.

Marcus was unwilling to wait a moment longer and tangled one of his hands into her wild hair, the other resting at her lower back to hold her against him firmly. Tilting her head precisely how he wanted her, he descended on her once again, resuming the heated kisses that were making her dizzy. Though they had been on quite a few dates, an unspoken agreement between them existed to take things slowly. They'd exchanged many kisses, but it typically stayed in the short and sweet category, nothing like the heated kiss she was experiencing now. A shift in their relationship was occuring, making it more passionate and toe curling.

Eventually, Hermione had to break away to breathe, gently pulling back. Marcus, unwilling to stop his attention, kissed down her jaw to her neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the skin there. The feeling had her a shivering, sighing mess in his arms.

Although she would have liked to kiss him for the rest of the night, she knew that there were still a few things they had to discuss. "Marcus?" she questioned softly, only to gasp when he licked the sensitive skin below her ear. "Is it...okay that I called you my boyfriend? Is that what we are now?"

Reluctantly, he pulled back to look at her, rewarding her with that lopsided grin of is. "It's more than okay," he said, before a stupid grin spread across his face. "Hermione Granger is my girlfriend."

She giggled at that. "Marcus Flint is my boyfriend," she countered, thinking about how preposterous that would have sounded to her a year prior. Still, she was ecstatic that it was true, Ronald Weasley be damned what he thought about it. "So, we are...officially dating now," she said with a grin of her own.

"I thought we were already officially dating," he said, a hint of pink forming on his cheeks. "I just didn't want to jinx anything by bringing it up," he revealed, softly.

"Me too," she told him, smiling softly when she realize how silly that sounded now. Although she was very much enjoying their positioning in the bathroom, the feel of his body cradled by her legs, she was also intensely aware that the bathroom was not the most romantic of locations. Hopping down from the counter, she took his hand, and lead him from the room. "Come, let's go somewhere a little more comfortable."

"Your bed?" his low voice, transformed by lust, questioned from behind her.

Hermione snorted. "Not  _so_  fast, Flint," she mock-scolded. "We only  _just_  started dating and I don't want to rush things. But my couch is really quite comfortable," she explained, leading him back into the living room. They had never openly talked about it, but Hermione was still a virgin and she really didn't want to go rushing into something she'd regret. They would take the physical aspect of their relationship slowly, moving forward when the timing was right.

Marcus flopped down on the couch, only to pull her into his lap, holding her posessively. She kissed his forehead lovingly. "Besides, I am still cross with you for punching my friend in the face," she whined. Really, she ought to be more concerned for Ron, who was likely concussed from the blow, but at that moment, she couldn't be bothered, remembering all the hurtful things he'd said.

" _Your friend_ ," Marcus growled, "has a stupidly hard face. I'm lucky I had you to patch me up, or I am sure that my hand would still be throbbing. But I am sorry that I've upset you. I will refrain...from physical violence in the future. Within reason," he conceded.

She knew that was being really rather reasonable. "Thank you," she whispered, before grabbing his hand in hers, cradling it in her lap. "How is your hand? I would be so disappointed if you had trouble in your game on Sunday because of my friend's thick skull."

"The truth comes out," he chuckled softly. "Hermione Granger was only after my fame and fortune from my lucrative Quidditch career after all. I should have known you were just a jersey chaser."

Hermione giggled at his teasing. "Oh, you've pegged me correct! If only you'd had someone to warn you about me!" she said dramatically. "But truly, I know how much you love Quidditch, and I would hate for something to set you off your course," she told him honestly.

Marcus sighed, slanting his mouth across hers in an eager kiss. "You are special, Hermione," he said, his large eyebrows knitting together in awe of her. Even though she wanted nothing to do with Quidditch and generally thought it was a dangerous sport, she still just wanted what was best for him, and that meant play Quidditch.

He pressed her back into the arm of the couch, gently holding the back of his head so that he could continue to kiss her for the rest of the night. Hermione, emboldened by their earlier kiss in the bathroom, felt free to explore her body to his heart's content, relishing the progress that their relationship had made that night. Sure, it had been messy, but it was well worth it in the end, wrapped up in the arms of a man she was quickly falling for.

They stayed snuggled up on the couch, trading lazy kisses all night, finally falling asleep in each other's arms only once the dawn was threatening to break.


	14. Finders Keepers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I hope that drama wrap up was good for you, so now we can get back to the fluff! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter fourteen and be on the lookout for chapter fifteen on Monday!

**August 2000**

Marcus eagerly floo’d over to Hermione’s flat, with a box tucked under his arms. When he walked through the green flames, he found that she was already cooking. “That smells good,” he said in greeting, waltzing into her kitchen. She wasn’t the best cook in the world, but she always tried. Today, she was making one of his favorites -- lasagne. Hermione greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.

 

It had been several months of dating and Marcus almost couldn’t believe that a witch as accomplished and intelligent as Hermione wanted anything to do with him, but he wasn’t going to look a gift broom in the bristles. He cherished every moment that he got to spend with her. Her friends had reluctantly learned to accept him, made easier after he and Weasley were forced to apologize to one another, though he was positive that the redhead still hated him. Harry and Ginny were much more accommodating, even inviting the new couple out on double dates.

 

He also knew he was lucky that his family liked Hermione. He’d finally been cajoled into bringing her around for dinner, afraid that she’d be horribly overwhelmed by his large family. Instead, she’d charmed everyone, including his mother. Brita had peppered her with questions about Hogwarts and she’d even held Sabina’s new daughter, Matilde. Lavinia was even staunchly pro-Hermione once his girlfriend had introduced her to Duncan Montague, who she worked with at the Ministry, Graham’s older brother.

 

Privately, Lavinia had revealed that she was only worried that Hermione might think she was too good for Marcus, based on the way that Daphne had talked about her. She’d imagined Hermione as being snotty and self-centered, but seeing them interact had made Lavinia confident that not only was Hermione _good_ for him, she was _the one_ for him.

 

Marcus wasn’t sure if they were at that stage in their relationship, content to take things slowly, enjoying having fun with each other. Though, he would be a fool to not recognize the flip-flops his stomach had done seeing her hold his baby niece.

 

“What’s this?” she questioned, grabbing the package out his hands and placing it on the kitchen table.

 

“For you,” he said, wrapping his arms around her back, pulling her towards him possessively, pressing a kiss to the crown of her curly-haired head.

 

She looked at him in confusion, knowing that it wasn’t an anniversary, and it wasn’t her birthday, so there was no reason for a gift. Sure fingers broke the spell-o-tape holding the lid of the box on, before she cautiously lifted the top, to reveal what was hidden inside. The shiny, dark grey fabric of the jersey proudly bore an fantastically embroidered logo of the Falmouth Falcons. He watched her smile while she lifted the jersey by it’s shoulders, holding it up to her body. “How does it look?”

 

When he’d picked up the jersey earlier that day, he’d been amazed by how small it seemed compared to the one he wore every game. But, next to her petite stature, it looked like it would fit perfectly. “It’s great,” he said, grinning.

 

Hermione held the jersey away from her, blushing when she caught a glimpse of the back. “FLINT” was proudly emblazoned across the shoulders. It was an act of possessiveness that he hadn’t been able to resist. After all, why shouldn’t she let the world know who she _belonged_ to? He knew that made him sound horribly caveman-like, but it soothed some primal part of him.

 

“You’ll wear it to the game tomorrow?” he asked eagerly. Their schedules the year before in combination with the newness of their relationship meant that Hermione hadn’t attended any of his games last year. But the game occuring that weekend was probably one of the biggest games of the season -- playing Puddlemere United away. He would certainly get an extra boost if he knew that Hermione was there, in the stands, supporting _him_.

 

“Of course I will,” Hermione said brightly. “Though, you’ll forgive me if I don’t know all of the intricacies of the sport. I don’t want to embarrass you.”

 

“Don’t worry about that,” he answered. He knew that Hermione was not the biggest fan of Quidditch, and likely never would be. Though, since they’d been dating, she was certainly learning a lot more about it. “You’ll be in the friends and family box. Ades will be there, as will Sabina and Gustavo, unfortunately. So you will have people to talk to,” he promised.

 

Hermione had not initially gotten along with Adrian, finding him to be pushy and overbearing, but after a fun weekend out with some of Marcus’s friends, they’d forged a tentative friendship. And, maybe Marcus’s persistent glares whenever he got a bit too forward with his friend’s girlfriend had made an impact on the handsy Slytherin.

 

“That will be prefect,” Hermione responded with a smile, taking his hands in hers. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen you play since I was a third year! What a terrible girlfriend I’ve been to you,” she cooed.

 

Marcus didn’t think she was a terrible girlfriend at all.

 

* * *

 

Hermione hadn’t been to a professional Quidditch match since her fourth year when she attended the World Cup. Somehow, she’d forgotten how bone-shaking the cheers and thumps from the stands could be. Winding her way through the multitude of stairs, she kept climbing up, up, up, listening as the chants got louder and louder. Puddlemere’s stadium was really quite old and rickety, and she knew they were lucky for the magic that held everything together.

 

By the time she’d made it to the friends and family box on the very top level, the chanting had gotten so loud she almost couldn’t hear the thoughts in her own head. To her delight, the box was charmed to keep out some of the crowd noise. She wasn’t sure if she would have been able to put up with that for several hours.

 

The moment she walked in, she was greeted by a warmly smiling Sabina. “Hermione! I am so excited you’re here,” she said, pressing a glass of champagne into her hand. This was definitely not the kind of spread Hermione had been expecting, but she appreciated it nonetheless. “I love your jersey. Marcus is _such_ a barbarian. Surely there is a more reasonable solution if he wants to give you his name?”

 

Hermione blushed at the suggestion, thinking it was rather odd to be speaking to Sabina about marriage, when she and Marcus hadn’t even broached the subject. And, she was positive that it hadn’t been his intention when he gave her the jersey to _give her his name_. Surely lots of other girlfriends of professional players wore jerseys? “Did you not bring Matilde?” Hermione questioned, wanting to see the adorable little baby girl again. She grew so fast.

 

“No, we’ve left her with Lavinia for the day,” Sabina said breezally. “She is convinced that she wants to be a mom, so we thought we’d take advantage of some free baby sitting. Come, let’s go rescue Ades from Gustavo before they Avada one another,” she joked, looking fondly at her husband, who was gesticulating wildly.

 

When they greeted the guys, the team introductions were occuring. Hermione watched with pride as Marcus flew around the open field, smirking as the other team’s fans booed him. She knew he relished it, because it only meant they recognized how good he was. With a drink in hand, Hermione settled in to watch the game be played.

 

For once, she wasn’t watching the skies for the snitch, worrying about Harry. Instead, she listened to Adrian describe the different kinds of plays that the chasers and beaters set up, delighting in the way that Marcus handled the quaffle with ease. It was obvious to see that he had a natural talent for Quidditch, and it was easy to understand why he loved the sport so much. She cheered happily, jumping up and down, each and every time Marcus scored on Oliver Wood.

 

To her immense excitement, it was barely two hours later when the game was won by Falmouth, leaving the Puddlemere fans shocked and upset.

 

Hermione, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to congratulate Marcus on his game well played. Unwilling to wait, Hermione bade her new friends goodbye and wandered down in the direction of the locker rooms, intent on being the first person Marcus saw after the game was over. She would wrap her arms around him and give him a big kiss, not caring who was looking or how sweaty he would be. She just wanted him to be sure he knew how proud of him she was on all of his hard work.

 

Unfortunately, the winning team had not yet come in from the pitch, liking forced to give interviews to the Daily Prophet, so Hermione contented herself to wait.

 

“Well, I’ll be! Hermione Granger,” a familiar voice called from down the hall. “What are you doing at a Quidditch match of all places? And in a Falmouth jersey? Harry didn’t manage to turn you into a fanatic did he?”

 

The brunette turned to see Oliver Wood heading in her general direction, a big smile plastered on his face. She hadn’t seen him since the Final Battle, where he’s fought alongside the Order bravely. “Hello Oliver, it’s good to see you. I’m actually here to support my boyfriend,” she explained sweetly, wondering just how deep the rivalry ran between Marcus and the Scot.

 

“Boyfriend?” he asked, sounding a bit dumbfounded. “Who on Earth could you be dating on _Falmouth_?”

 

Hermione tried not to let his confused tone get to her. She didn’t _think_ he was trying to suggest that she was undateable, but rather didn’t see anyone on the Falmouth Falcons as being particularly eligible. She was about to answer when she heard the Falmouth team walking down the hallway towards them. Her face lit up as soon as she saw Marcus.

 

“Marcus!” Wrapping her burly boyfriend in a tight hug, she stood on her tiptoes to give him a lingering kiss on the lips. “Congratulations on your game. You played brilliantly,” she complimented. You didn’t even have to like Quidditch to know how well he’d played.

 

“ _Flint?_ ” Oliver questioned from behind her. “You are dating Flint?”

 

She spun around to look at the Gryffindor once again, flashing him a smile. She’d almost forgotten that he was there. “Yes, Marcus and I have been dating for several months now,” she explained. Biting her lip, she tried not to smile when she felt her boyfriend wrap his arm posessively around her waist. As if she would want to date Oliver when she had Marcus.

 

Oliver looked absolutely flummoxed, obviously unable to understand how the two of them got along together. But, he also recognized that he had no say in their relationship anyway. “Well, err...congratulations Flint. See you around, Hermione,” he bid them goodbye awkwardly, before turning and heading in the direction of the home locker rooms.

 

Turning in his arms, Hermione tried to scold Marcus. “You know I’m not going anywhere. You don’t need to paw at me to show others that I am yours,” she whispered, unwrapping his arm from her body. He was still wearing his full uniform, and the leather gloves felt soft and supple under her fingertips. Looking down, Hermione examined the glove more carefully. Her heart skipped several beats when she realized that these were the same gloves she’d sent him all those years ago. She was surprised and perplexed, and wanted to ask him a million questions. Had he really wore them all this time? Had he really kept them?

 

“I just don’t want anyone to get any ideas,” Marcus said, looking chastised. “You are the catch in this relationship, Hermione,” he said, pressing an additional kiss to her forehead.

 

Hermione smiled to herself, thinking that she rather disagreed with that statement. “Go on and get changed. I want to take you out to celebrate,” she urged. The sight of those Quidditch gloves had given her a lot to think about, and she didn’t need him distracting her.


	15. Personalized Presents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! I am so glad liked the little Oliver cameo. Only a few chapters left, so I hope you guys like what I have planned for this week. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter fifteen and be on the lookout for chapter sixteen tomorrow!

**February 2001**

As the weeks went by and Hermione got closer to her first anniversary with Marcus, Hermione was stressing herself out trying to come up with the perfect present to get her boyfriend. One year was really quite a serious anniversary, and she was sure there were plenty of people who expected their relationship to fail. In fact, ever since she'd gone to that first Quidditch match wearing Marcus's jersey, their love life had been a topic of increasing gossip in the Daily Prophet, with several columnists suggesting that it was just a fling that was likely to wither away. After all, they had nothing in common, so how were they ever expected to last?

Hermione had rolled her eyes at that one.

Of course her and Marcus were different, but that didn't mean that they didn't have anything in common. Over the course of their relationship, she'd found the things that she loved most about him were not his interests, but rather his character, the way he treated his friends and family. Yes, he  _was_  a Slytherin, and predisposed to being sneaky, but he was a good man when it all boiled down. He was thoughtful and sweet, protective and fierce. A perfect balance.

Not only that, but he fully respected her work and life choices, something that her own friends couldn't always seem to do. It had been easy for her to fall in love with him...

She knew that this anniversary present would be a perfect way to show him just how much she did love him. If only she could think of the perfect present to give him. It hadn't taken long for her to call in reinforcements.

Daphne Longbottom had become one of her sincerest friends since she began dating Marcus. The pair regularly met up for lunches during the week, with Daphne bringing a curious little Auggie to visit Hermione at the Ministry after visits to his paternal grandparents.

"It's nearly been a year, since Marcus and I agreed to date exclusively," Hermione said abruptly, her spoonful of spoon hanging precariously above the bowl of chicken dumpling.

Her beautiful blonde friend looked up at her, smiling. Auggie bounced away on her knee, slobbering over a bit of crust. "Hermione, that's wonderful. When is the big day? Do you have any plans?" she asked.

"Later in March," Hermione explained. It was odd. They had gone on many dates but they did not consider the relationship official until that fateful day in March when Marcus had punched Ron in the face, a fact her friend was still salty over. That had been the first night that she'd called him her boyfriend, and he'd enthusiastically agreed to the term. "No specific plans yet, but we will probably go to dinner in Diagon Alley...if the press will leave us undisturbed."

"Oh! You two should go on a trip," Daphne said suddenly as the idea came upon her. "Take a holiday somewhere warm and fabulous where you can frolick about in...what do muggles call those swimsuits again? Bahinis?"

"Bikinis," Hermione corrected, bursting out laughing at the incorrect term.

"Yes, bikinis. I am sure that Marcus would love to watch you running up and down the beach in a bikini. It would be so romantic," Daphne sighed. "And it's a really good test of your relationship, you know? Going on holiday. Shows how you can roll with the punches if things happen to go poorly."

Hermione thought about the idea for a moment. She certainly wouldn't mind getting Marcus into a pair of boardshorts and watch him walk around half naked all day. It was rather shallow of her, but she could admit that she loved the way he looked with his shirt off - all firm muscles and just a bit of hair. He looked so strong and masculine. Not to mention that Gustavo was always invited her and Marcus to come stay at his family's home in Porto.

But it wouldn't work. "As fabulous as that sounds, Daph - you know how much I would love a holiday in the sun - I don't think it will work," she said disappointedly, biting her lower lip. "It would just be too impossible to try and coordinate with his Quidditch schedule this close to the end of the season, especially now that he's been called up for the England squad."

"Oh, Quidditch ruins everything, doesn't it?" Daphne commiserated.

Hermione knew that it was something Marcus loved too much to ever give up, but in this instance, she could find herself agreeing. "I think a nice dinner will have to do. Leave the fabulous trip for the summer break. Or maybe next winter we could go."

"Yes, a nice dinner and an unforgettable evening," Daphne smirked. "Wow, this is such a big milestone for the two of you. How do you know that Marcus hasn't already come up with a way to make it really memorable?"

"I'm sure he will manage to do just that," Hermione agreed. "Marcus is always so thoughtful and considerate." In all honesty, he was probably far too good for her.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "No, I mean...what if he intends to give you some jewelry? Make your relationship a little bit more permanent," she explained quickly.

"Oh," Hermione said suddenly, completely dumbfounded.  _That_  was a possibility that she had not even considered. What would she do if Marcus did propose to her? Did she want to be married to him? "But, Daphne, don't you think that's rather soon? I mean, Marcus and I have only been dating a  _year_."

"Yes, but Marcus is a bit older than you, and, well, he might be wanting to settle down," Daphne explained airly. "Plus, purebloods don't usually date, not really. You could have a long engagement thought."

Hermione nibbled her lower lip once more, thinking through all the possibilities. She did love Marcus, of that much she was sure, but she hadn't even told  _him_  that yet. Plus, he'd seemed alright with taking their relationship slowly, including their physical relationship. They had had many months of lazy kisses and tentative explorations of each other's bodies, finding release from one another more than once, but they hadn't taken that final step yet.

Clearing her throat, Hermione hoped her glazed look and red cheeks hadn't revealed to Daphne exactly what she'd been thinking about. "Well, I guess we will cross that bridge when we get there," she said firmly. "But I still need to get Marcus something...a perfect present."

Daphne pursed her lips together. "Do you really need to get him something? I thought that was usually the man's job, to lavish you with presents on your anniversary."

Hermione laughed. "Perhaps, but I still want to give him something to show him how much I care, how much a feel about him.""

Her words brought back another memory, one in which she'd been looking for a way to show Ronald Weasley that she fancied him. But, now, she could see how much her feelings for Ron paled in significance to what she felt for Marcus. She thought about how Ron never received the present she'd selected for him, and Marcus had been the recipient after all. How he still wore gloves meant for another wizard to this day.

The thought made a bit of a knot form in her throat. Did he care at all that the gloves were a representation of her feelings for another man? How could she allow him to continue to wear something like that?

"I think I know what to get him," she said brightly to Daphne. "I think I'm going to get him some Quidditch gloves. Something personal...monogrammed maybe."

"That's a good idea, but...don't you think he has a particular brand or style that he prefers? He has his pick of any glove he wants," Daphne questioned.

Shaking her head, Hermione gave her friend the run down of how she'd noticed that Marcus wore the same gloves she'd regifted to him several years prior. Surely getting something that was purely for him would be better than gloves meant for another man. After hearing the whole story, Daphne seemed to agree.

The pair of girls spent the rest of their lunch discussing what Hermione should wear to Lavinia and Duncan's handfasting ceremony later that year. Apparently, this was another case of very specific pureblood requirements, seeing as the Montague family was quite close to old magic. Particular robes would have to be selected with care.

After lunch, Hermione eagerly returned to her desk, only to send Harry a quick memo. The last time that she had picked out Quidditch gloves, she'd thought she'd been on her own, unable to ask Viktor or Ginny. But now, Harry not only knew about, but thoroughly approved of her relationship with Marcus. He would be able to help her find the perfect pair that would suit Marcus.

Harry appeared after her work was done for the day, and took her to the floos. Agreeing with Marcus, Harry insisted that Quality Quidditch Supplies was the best and only location to look for Quidditch related items, so they were flooing off to Scotland. After brief hellos to Rosmerta and Hannah Abbott, her apprentice, Hermione and Harry were off to the store.

He quickly identified the best brand for her, and showed Hermione the range of gloves that he would chose from. Hermione spent the next half hour trying on gloves, looking for supple leather and good flexibility. She wanted something that would last Marcus for years and years, if she could help it. Harry watched her fondly as she asked questions and slipped far too large gloves over her hands.

"You know, I never would have guessed that Marcus Flint is what would have gotten you into a Quidditch shop," Harry said with a wry smile on his face.

Cheeks blazing, Hermione quickly explained that this was not the first time she'd come into Quality Quidditch Supplies on her own choosing.

"Ron and you...you guys were never right for each other," Harry said sadly. "I just wish that he could be truly happy for you." Ron had stubbornly refused to be happy for Hermione or really even recognize her relationship with Marcus. It had taken a toll on his own relationship with Susan Bones, who had recently decided to break off their own relationship, seeing how terrible Ron was treating Hermione.

Hermione nodded, feeling that familiar knot form in her throat once more. Looking back on it now, she could agree that she and Ron were never quite right, never quite good enough friends to one another now, and her relationship with Marcus was only straining that friendship more. Still, she knew that her relationship with Marcus might never have happened if it wasn't for Ron kissing Lavender Brown in the Gryffindor common room.

She did find it utterly annoying that Ron couldn't let it go that she was dating a Slytherin, but she wasn't surprised. She was sure he would be able to find something wrong with any man that she chose to date, Slytherin or not. At least she had the support of Harry and Ginny.

Once she found the  _perfect_  pair of gloves, Hermione made her way to the counter to arrange to have them monogramed. The subtle, navy thread would appear on the inside, wrist edge of each piece. She hoped that he appreciated the gesture, wanting it to be clear that these were  _his_  gloves and his alone. She wouldn't need to send them off to a different wizard this time.


	16. Anniversary Excitement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! Just a heads up that this chapter is what gives the story its M rating, so if that's not your cup of tea, I suggest you skip the last bit of this chapter. I promise, you aren't missing any big plot points. Oh, I am crying...I can't believe this is almost over! You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter sixteen and be on the lookout for chapter seventeen tomorrow!

**March 2001**

After their anniversary dinner in Diagon Alley, Marcus eagerly invited Hermione back to his flat in Falmouth. While they had mostly avoided the press at the restaurant, there was no guarantee that they would remain undisturbed. The restaurant had provided them with a nice table in the back, where they wouldn't be the subject of too many prying eyes, though Hermione figured they would likely always be a topic of discussion. After all, who wouldn't be fascinated by the fact that Marcus Flint and Harry Potter's muggleborn friend were dating one another?

Hermione had allowed him to apparate her back to his living room. A lazy wave of his wand had a small fire started in the fireplace. Even though it was March, it was still quite rainy and cold, and each of the room's occupants were happy for the added warmth. She settled on the couch, while Marcus went into the kitchen to retrieve wine bottle and glasses.

"I can't believe I've convinced you to stay dating me this long," Marcus said with a lopsided grin, running his fingers through tousled hair.

She snorted. "Well, I don't know how you put up with my insane work schedule and annoying friends," she responded. "Perhaps it's me who's tricked you?"

Marcus reached down to thread his fingers through hers, giving her hand a tight squeeze. "I'd say we are both pretty lucky," he answered. They settled into a comfortable silence, leaning back into the couch with one another.

Finally, though, Marcus broke the silence. "I should give you your present," he said, standing from the couch abruptly and reaching into the pocket of his trousers.

Hermione's eyes widened when she watched him pull a small velvet box out of his pocket. He held it in shaking hand, and gulped audibly. Hermione began to panic, thinking about Daphne's suggestion that Marcus might try to propose to her that evening. She had thought a lot about that scenario, and she didn't think that they were  _quite_  at that step in their relationship yet. What would she have to tell him? Could she possibly say no, or not yet? Her heart was pounding rapidly, the rush of blood in her ears drowning out all other noises.

Marcus sat back down on the couch, before cautiously opening the box. "I know you don't typically wear jewelry," he explained. "But I saw this and thought it would suit your taste. And, well, it's practical...shouldn't get in the way too much?"

Despite herself, Hermione sighed in relief when she realized it was a  _watch_. A truly beautiful wrist watch with a brown leather band, and rose gold face, covered in dainty diamonds. Likely, something as simple and refined as this would have cost Marcus a small fortune. It was  _almost_  enough for her to want to beg off accepting such a lovely gift. But, he was right - the watch did really suit her. She loved it.

Rewarding her boyfriend with a quick kiss, Hermione held out her wrist so that he could help her put it on. "Do you like it?" he questioned nervously, after latching it on to her dainty wrist.

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "I love it, Marcus. It's perfect - simple and practical, but so beautiful," she complimented honestly.

"Good," he said, sounded relieved. "You looked as if I'd told you I'd murdered Crookshanks and made him into a fur coat for you."

"Oh, that was just...I was reminded of something Daphne said," Hermione tried to explain away, but Marcus remained unconvinced.

"Yeah? What did she say?" he prodded, likely wondering just what his cousin was up to. Daphne was a very sweet, nice girl, but that didn't mean she  _wasn't_  a Slytherin. She was perfectly capable at manipulating people into getting what she wanted them to do, all with a smile on her face.

Hermione blushed heavily at the question, but ultimately decided to share with Marcus. It was good for them to have these kind of open, honest discussions in their relationship. "She just...she thought that you might propose to me tonight," she said, staring down at her hand in her lap. "And, well, I was a little  _overwhelmed_  by the proposition."

"Propose?" Marcus stuttered, obviously as flustered as she had been by the suggestion as she had been. "I hadn't even considered it," he lied. Of course, he often liked to imagine what it would be like to get married to Hermione, to permanently attach her to him. However, he knew it was a little early for it to be realistic.

"Good," Hermione agreed, nodding furiously. "Not that I'm opposed to marriage, I just...well I haven't even told you..." she trailed of, holding his blue eyes in an intense, heated stare. Hermione took a deep breath for courage in what she was about to reveal to him. "I love you, Marcus," she told him softly.

Marcus looked a bit stunned at first, but he quickly softened, pulling her into his lap. "I love you, too, Hermione Granger," he answered. "Have for months and months," he revealed.

Hermione felt her heart beating wildly in her chest, at the realization that her feelings for him were revealed. She knew many people thought that Marcus was a cruel, mean man, but she saw another side to him, one that was tender and sweet in private. One that always looked to make her as comfortable as possible.

"Well, I should give you your present as well," Hermione said, the watch gleaming in the firelight. She reached for her clutch and pulled it towards her. After being on the run, she'd taken to placing undetectable extension charms on most of her bags, illegal or not. Fishing her arm around, she quickly located the wrapped box and handed it to Marcus.

He looked at the wrapped box fondly, obviously recognizing the signature wrapping from Quality Quidditch supplies. Long fingers eagerly pulled loose the ribbon and removed the top, only to reveal the pair of brand new Quidditch gloves.

Hermione bit her lower lip, watching while she slid one of the gloves on his hand, testing out the grip. "I noticed that you were still wearing the gloves I sent you in sixth year," she stated. "Why would you still wear those old things? I am sure you have loads options for gloves to wear."

Marcus flushed at that. "I'm not entirely sure," he said, stumbling over his words. "I think I liked that it was something connecting me back to England while I was abroad. Then, once I returned home, it was something that connected me to you."

"Yes, but...they were meant for someone else. Doesn't that bother you?" she questioned, knowing that it had been bothering her immensely.

He shrugged his broad shoulders. "Dunno. I guess, even though I did know that, wanting to be close to you...wanting to appreciate the kindness you'd shown me. It outweighed all of that."

"Well, I hope that these will make up for that," Hermione said, grabbing the gloves twin and showing Marcus the stitching on the inside. "I wanted you to know that these are unequivocally for  _you_ , and no other man."

Setting the gloves aside, Marcus cupped her jaw with one hand, while the other went to tangle in her wild hair, holding her exactly where he wanted. Slanting his lips across hers, he immediately deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of her mouth, trying to communicate the intense love he was feeling in that moment. Breaking away after a moment, Marcus gave her a sincere smile. "Thank you. I love them. I love you," he repeated, buoyed by her returned feelings.

Hermione clung to his shoulders, staring up at him. "Marcus?" she questioned. "Take me to your bed?" she requested, a pretty blush lighting up her cheeks. She knew now that Marcus was the right one for her, and she was finally ready to go all the way with him, wanting him to have her completely.

Her boyfriend did not need to be told twice. Scooping her up effortlessly, he carried her the short distance to his bedroom, before lovingly placing her down on the bed, her hair splayed around her on the pillows. Deft fingers worked to remove the shirt from his body, eager to get down to disrobe as quickly as possible to get to what she promised. His trousers did not hide how he ached for her either.

Sitting up, Hermione reached behind her to loose the zipper on the back of her dress, before pushing the shoulders down and shimmying out of the smooth fabric, leaving her in just pretty lace knickers. She watched with greedy eyes as Marcus stepped out of his trousers, down to just his box briefs.

Shifting over to give him room, Hermione sighed in contentment when Marcus settled on the bed next to her, his body warm against hers. Their mouths found each other quickly, engaging in a passionate dance that had Hermione's toes curling in pleasure. They were no strangers to the others naked body, and had learned the myriad ways to bring their partner soaring to new heights over the course of their relationship.

Cupping her breast, Marcus used his thumb to tease her hard nipple until she was mewling against him like a happy kitten. Just when she thought she could take no more and was nearly prepared to beg for more, he stroked his hands down her side, following the curve of her waist, taking her knickers with him until they were pushed down to her knees. Hermione excitedly kicked out of them, leaving her completely bare.

Her heart was slamming against her ribcage in excitement and nerves over what they were about to do. She forced herself to relax, knowing that Marcus would do his best to make it a wonderful first time for her.

He groaned audibly at the feeling of her wetness on his fingertips when he stroked her folds, easily finding the little bead at the top of her sex. Letting his thumb work in lazy circles over her clitoris, he entered her with one finger, and then another. She was hot and ready for him and wanted nothing more than to be joined with him fully. Clinging to his shoulders helplessly, she broke their kiss. "Please Marcus, I want you inside of me," she begged.

"Patience witch," he scolded, giving her a nip on the tip of her nose. His fingers increased their pace, all the while his thumb never stopped working her into a frenzy. He didn't quit until she'd shattered around him, sighing her release into his shoulder.

Only then did he settle between her open thighs, stroking his hard length against her, coating himself. Looking down at her eyes, so full of love, he had to be sure. "Are you sure, Hermione? There's no undoing this," he questioned, knowing it would be difficult to stop now, but wanting to respect her all the same. He wouldn't do anything if she wasn't positive.

"Yes, please," she answered honestly, her hips rocking against him helplessly.

With a groan and her acceptance, Marcus positioned himself at her slit before pressing in slowly, allowing her to adjust to the newness of the situation. She felt better than anything he'd expected, and he had to still himself once he was fully seated so as not to embarrass himself.

Once she'd relaxed around him, and he knew he could continue, he pulled out slowly, only to join with her again. Watching her face and listening to the hitches in her breath, he quickly found a pace and angle that suited both of them.

Hermione clung to him, wrapping her legs around his arse and running her hands up and down his back. Feeling his muscles working so hard to please her had her feeling powerful and sexy. Sensitive from her earlier orgasm, she felt herself racing towards that peak again. He hit a particular spot inside of her that had her toes curling, pleasure racing up and down her spine and she was helpless to do anything but hold onto him as she found herself awash in pleasure. Faintly, she registered him taking a last few erratic thrusts before joining her in bliss.

She wasn't sure how long they'd stayed that way, wrapped in each other's embrace, but eventually Marcus rolled flat on his back, pulling her to rest in the crook of his arm. With her head against his chest, his strong heartbeat lulled her to sleep.


	17. Australian Explorations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad so many of you appreciated the pacing of their relationship. Only one chapter to go after this guy! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter seventeen and be on the lookout for chapter eighteen soon!

**July 2002**

Marcus thought that he would always enjoy flying. There was nothing more relaxing than hopping on your broom and getting away from the rest of the world for a few hours. Up in the air, you could be alone with your thoughts and feelings. He loved the feel of the wind against his face, waking him up. It was one of the best sensations. He  _loved_  flying.

That was until he went on the aeroplane with Hermione.

She'd tried to explain how the shiny metal tube that muggles rode through the air worked, but he hadn't been too bothered to listen, thinking that it couldn't be much different from broom flight.  _Salazar_  was he wrong.

The silvery aeroplane got much higher in the air than Marcus would ever dare go on his broom, up so high that the air was impossible to breath on your own. Whole cities were reduced to mere specks on the ground if he could even see them through the clouds, and the constant shifting and tilting made his stomach roil in terror.

No, muggles were insane to fly. He could easily see why Hermione didn't dare try flying a broom if  _this_  is what she was used to.

She'd been calm the whole journey, which lasted nearly a whole day, and included one stop over. She didn't say anything to unman him when he'd squeezed her hand when they caught a bit of what she called turbulence. He knew it was because she was too nervous, calculating all the ways that their visit to her parents could go.

While the Grangers had a monthly phone call, his girlfriend revealed that they'd only seen each other once since the war - since she'd sent them off to live in Melbourne, Australia. Apparently, her parents had settled in well there and had no desire to return to England if they could help it, and it was difficult for Hermione to get time off of work to go down under to visit. It likely didn't help their strained relationship.

He'd been surprised by her sudden desire to go and visit them, as she hadn't been in over two years. He'd surprised himself when he offered to go with her. It wasn't a terrible idea though. Their relationship was really getting quite serious, and suddenly the idea that he should propose to her didn't seem so crazy. Especially not now that Hermione had moved in with him at his flat in Falmouth after their second anniversary. He often found himself distracted by the thoughts of what their future could be like, if she'd only agree to marry him.

And then Harry had gone and told him that it was customary for a man to ask a muggle his permission to marry the muggle's daughter. Knowing that their relationship was already difficult, Marcus didn't want to do anything to strain it further, by marrying Hermione without getting the okay from the muggle himself. It  _did_  add a whole additional layer of nerves to their visit though.

Since the plane had landed, Marcus found himself feeling increasingly nervous, truly dreading meeting Hermione's muggle parents. He'd never spent much time at all in the muggle world and he was sure that he would embarrass himself when faced with some of their unusual customs. The only thing that had him holding on was knowing that Hermione would love him even if he messed something up.

By the time that they had retrieved their bags and were waiting for Hermione's parents to pick them up in their  _automobile_  he thought he might actually be sick. Before he could, though, a blue  _automobile_  was pulling up to the curb and a plain looking couple were spilling out and wrapping his girlfriend up in a tight hug.

"Oh my darling, it really  _has_  been too long," the woman said, smiling at Hermione, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Marcus felt some tension leave his body when he saw how Hermione relaxed in her presence. "It's good to see you," she said before pulling away so that her father could hug Hermione as well.

Hermione's mother, Jane, was about Hermione's height, but with straight nearly auburn hair and dark brown eyes. Her father was average height, but slim, and it was clear that Hermione took after him with his curly brown hair and light brown eyes. He looked Marcus up and down, surprise evident on his face.

"Mum, dad, this is Marcus, my boyfriend," Hermione said, wrapping her arm around his waist in support.

Her father, David, cleared his throat. "Of course, Hermione's told us all about you Marcus," he said awkwardly. "But she told us you played a sport similar to football. I didn't expect something quite so large - but don't worry, I think you'll still fit in the car," he joked.

Marcus's eyes widened at the suggestion that he wouldn't fit and looked at Hermione for support. Unfortunately, she was already carrying their bags to the boot of the car to put them inside, chatting with her mother excitedly. David headed towards the car, leaving Marcus to follow and try and fold himself into the backseat, his legs pressed tightly against the seat ahead of him. Oh well, at least it was still better than the aeroplane.

* * *

Australia was much more fun than he expected. After a day or two of feeling slightly uncomfortable around Hermione's muggle parents, he quickly learned that they weren't as scary as he expected. They were actually quite nice to him, and very patient with some of his questioning. It was hard not to use magic - he'd never realized how dependent on it he was - and he was thoroughly impressed by how much muggles could accomplish  _without_  waving a wand. Not that he was about to turn his back on the wizarding world.

David had showed Marcus what football was exactly, seeing as the muggles were having their football world cup, and Marcus devoured the sport eagerly. In turn, Marcus eagerly discussed the differences and similarities to Quidditch, something David was quite intrigued by and expressed his desire to come and watch. He was very impressed to learn that Marcus had secured a spot on the English National Team, and shared in Marcus's disappointment that England had not made it to the knockout stages during the Quidditch World Cup.

Marcus found he really enjoyed watching the telly, and he often questioned Hermione about why wizards didn't have the same technology. He could only imagine how thrilling it would be to watch Quidditch matches from the comfort of your own flat rather than having to go to the stadium. Then you could watch every game that was on.

He also found he enjoyed the time to just relax and spend time with Hermione, without work or Quidditch on either of their minds. It was fun to explore an unknown city with her hand held in his, and he quickly found himself realizing that he wanted this forever. Seeing families walk through parks together with tiny tots made him want that with her more than ever. So, it was with that in mind, and Harry's advice about muggles, that he finally decided to approach David to discuss marrying Hermione.

With a beer bottle in hand, Marcus made overtures about helping David with the barbeque in the backyard, while really he just wanted to get the man alone and away from the women's prying ears for one moment. Hermione and her mother remained inside, attempting to get some kind of potato dish to perfection in the kitchen.

David cottoned on to Marcus's nervousness, as he attempted to peel back the label on the bottle in his large hands. "You look like you have something on your mind," he said with a smirk that Marcus frequently saw on Hermione's face.

"Um, yes," Marcus said, figuring that it would probably go better if he just got it out of the way. The worst that could happen is he could say no and then...? Well he wasn't really sure what Hermione would think about that. "Hermione's friend Harry told me about a tradition that muggles have...a tradition about asking for a father's permission to marry his child."

Silence stretched between them. David didn't seem willing to make this any easier on him, judging by the amusement in his brown eyes.

"Well, it's just...I think that I would like to marry Hermione," Marcus stumbled through his words, feeling more and more sick the longer the conversation went on. Who knew he would be so terrified of such a puny muggle! Oh, if only Adrian could see him now. "With your permission."

"You do, do you?" David asked, setting his metal tongs down on the plate, before moving to join Marcus at their outdoor furniture. "Marcus, how are these things typically handled in the wizarding world?" he questioned.

"Well,  _traditionally_ , in pureblood circles, one head of household would approach another head of household and discuss an exchange of money, goods and promises in exchange for their children's hand in marriage," Marcus explained, feeling silly just saying it. "Sometimes the two being paired off wouldn't even know about it. But, that's not really done anymore. It's considered terribly old-fashioned and well, a lot of parents want to give their children their own say."

David was nodding along sounding intrigued. "You know, Marcus, I quite like you," he revealed, smiling at the man. "I haven't seen my apple crumble so happy and carefree since she was a little girl, and it's clear that your relationship is likely the cause."

"I try to make her happy," Marcus said lamely.

"So, I would be happy to give you  _my permission_  to marry Hermione," he said with a slight wince. "However, I find the whole asking permission thing to be a bit old-fashioned myself. Hermione is a smart woman and I trust her to make the right decisions. Besides, I don't know if you know this about my daughter, but she's quite headstrong. I am sure if I didn't give my permission and she wanted to marry you, she wouldn't give two licks to what I thought of it."

Marcus nodded happily, feeling as if a weight had been lifted off of him. "Thank you, sir," he said respectfully. "I hope that she will agree to it as well," he added with a blush.

"Well, when are you going to ask her?" David questioned, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

"To be honest, this has all happened rather suddenly," Marcus revealed. "I don't even have a ring yet, but I suppose...it will just have to wait until we return home. Soon, though." Now that he had it in his mind to ask her, he didn't think he'd be able to think of much else. He'd have to ask Sabina and Lavinia for their opinion on ring styles, and maybe Daphne as well. He'd ask Ginny Potter, but he'd quickly learned she was  _terrible_  at keeping secrets.

Just as he was about to ask his (hopefully) future father-in-law for any suggestions about what kind of styles Hermione might prefer, the sliding glass door opened and Hermione and her mother stepped out, laughing heartily as something. Hermione smiled fondly at seeing her father and Marcus talking with one another.

"What are you two talking about?" Hermione asked, failing to hide her smile. "You look so serious."

Marcus floundered, trying to come up with a lie, but David was quick to save him. "Well, apple crumble, I was just explaining to Marcus the concept of a  _false nine_ ," he said with grin on his face. "I think that it's something that could be utilized in Quidditch, when those...who are those fellas with the bats called again?"

"Beaters," Marcus offered graciously.

"When those beaters try to double guard one of the chasers," David lied smoothly. "Now, though, we could discuss what is known as  _parking the bus_."

Hermione groaned, pressing her hands to her face. "Oh, I don't know what's worse! My father learning about Quidditch or Marcus learning football tactics," she moaned, though her smile showed that she was not really upset. The table had a quick chuckle before the subject was changed once again to what to do with their remaining weekend in Australia.

All Marcus could think about was getting back to England.


	18. Baby Bliss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! My darlings, I so hope you enjoyed this little Marcus May treat! Now, I am off on my trip - headed to France - so I will see you all again in mid-June! In the meantime, you can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter eighteen!

**October 2004**

Marcus's whole family had been convinced that the newest Mrs. Flint was carrying another girl to add to the current cohort of granddaughters. In addition to Brita, Lotte, and Matilde, his sisters had each added another daughter to the brood after his and Hermione's wedding, which had taken place the year prior; Lavinia and Duncan had Iseult first, and Sabinia and Gustavo had followed shortly after with little Francisca. Then, Max and his wife had had another girl called Lena only a month before.

It seemed inevitable that the newest Flint would be a girl as well. His mother and sisters had been confident that the way she was carrying, it was undoubtedly a girl. Only his nephew Henrik seemed convinced that he would soon have a boy cousin to play with, and was only too happy to loudly announce it to whoever would listen.

It was a good thing, then, that Hermione had insisted they keep the nursery and all the gifts they received from her muggle relatives gender neutral. Because not even a day before, the newest Flint made  _his_  way into the world, screaming his little lungs out.

Marcus knew he was lucky to have made it in time for the birth. Hermione had gone into labor during a Quidditch match, and it had taken some time for the referee to approve the substitution that his coach was calling for wildly. Marcus hadn't known it was  _him_  who was being called off the pitch, but by the time it was sorted out, he knew it could only mean one thing.

Hermione was already in active labor by the time he got to St. Mungo's and was thankful to learn that his brother had gone to retrieve Jane and David so that they could be there for the birth of their first grandchild. They'd taken a long vacation to England to coincide with Hermione's due date the moment that she'd announced she was expecting.

It had taken a while, but Marcus softly supported Hermione through the whole thing, never once leaving her side, even when he was told it was not done to have the father in the birthing room. It was worth every hushed argument with the Healer to finally see his son enter the world. He was just a hair over nine pounds - declared to be the biggest baby they'd seen that month - and quite long as well. He had wispy dark hair and blue eyes, but Hermione told him that it can sometimes change as they age.

Their families had come in first to congratulate them, and Marcus thought he would relish the surprised looks on their faces when they figured out that their child was a boy. Then Hermione's friends had piled in - Harry and Ginny in particular, as well as Daphne and Neville, and Adrian and his girlfriend,  _Susan Bones_  - something Ron was still miffed about. It was nice to have so many people to share in their joy, cooing over the little boy, but eventually Marcus wanted them all out so he could have some time with his new family.

He finally got his wish, when the Healer swept in to inform them that visiting hours were over. Once they were gone, he and Hermione had selected a name - Eric Harry - and settled on a time to hold a Christening. Marcus wasn't particularly traditional, but he knew that it would make his mother happy. They had already selected Harry and Lavinia as godparents to the little tyke.

But then, Hermione had quickly fallen asleep, knowing that their son was being safely looked after by his father.

"Let's just go have a look down here, let mummy sleep a bit longer," Marcus whispered to the tiny bundle he had wrapped up in his arms, holding the child delicately to his chest. "What do you say, Eric?" he questioned, cradling the little boy's head in his large hand. He walked the short way to the window, leaving his sleeping wife, Hermione, asleep on the hospital bed.

A son. He had a son. Well, they had a son more like. It was difficult to believe.

Seeing his wife go through the intense labor to give him this precious gift was more than anything he would have imagined. He couldn't believe that it was just five years prior that he was sitting in Heidelberg and deciding that it might be nice to find a girlfriend, and now five years later, he had a wife and child. And not just any wife, but war heroine Hermione Granger. And she loved him back!

And now, they had the littlest child to round out their family. Based on how active the baby had been when Hermione was still pregnant, his boy was sure to follow in his father's footsteps and play Quidditch as well. He was looking forward to visiting Hogwarts for future matches, Eric playing for Slytherin. Or Gryffindor, he didn't mind.

"Hogwarts is going to have it's hands full you you lot," he said to Eric, who was staring vaguely at him. "You and all your cousins, there in one year. Lena and Fran and Issy. You will have to look after them. And you'll be friends with James Potter and Gareth Longbottom. You will have so much fun there, but you will have to work to keep your marks up, or your mummy wouldn't like that?"

"What wouldn't I like?" Hermione asked quietly from the bed where she was resting, woken up from her brief nap.

Marcus turned and walked the short distance to her. He sat down on the bed next to her, before passing the little bundle to Hermione's waiting arms. "I was just telling Eric all the things he would get up to at Hogwarts with Jamie and Gareth, and how he will have to look after his cousins," Marcus explained with a smirk. "He's going to play Quidditch - but I've told him he must keep his marks up or you will be disappointed in him."

Hermione brought a finger up to one chubby little cheek, rubbing it back and forth over the little baby hairs. "I just want him to try his best," Hermione said looking at him with eyes full of love. "If he does his best, I will not be disappointed." She knew it was true - not everyone could be quite as serious about school as she was, but she just wanted the best possible outcome for her son. Besides, he was barely even a day old...all discussion of marks was nearly a decade away.

"I don't know what I'd do if he  _didn't_  like Quidditch," Marcus told her honestly, though Hermione was quite positive that it was impossible any child of Marcus Flint wouldn't enjoy the sport, even just a little.

"Well, he was nearly born at a Quidditch match, so, we will always have that," Hermione teased, still embarrassed that she'd gone into labor at Marcus's game. Ginny had warned her that walking up all those stairs was likely to get things moving, but Hermione had been too stubborn, wanting to support Marcus who was receiving an award for playing his 200th match with Falmouth. "I just realized...I never even asked, did Falmouth win the game?"

Marcus snorted at her. "I don't think there is a game I could have cared about less, not when this little fellow was making his appearance finally," he said. "But, Potter did update me before he left. The lads were able to pull out a win at the last minute. I'll have to write Jones a thank you or something," he explained running his hand through his hair. Jones had stepped in as his substitute.

"I'm sure he was just happy enough to get some real playing time," Hermione said with a grin. "I'm sure he'll be begging you to spend as much time off with Eric as you are willing to take."

Eric, perhaps sensing that he was being talked about, looked as if he were about to cry, but a few gentle rocks from his mummy had him quieting down once again. Hermione grinned at the little boy, before turning to look at her husband.

"You know, when I helped you out with Gemma Rowle, I never expected that this is where  _we_  would end up," she revealed. "You just looked so helpless there at Honeyduke's, and even though you were big and seemed scary, it just seemed like the right thing to do. But, then you proved yourself to be so thoughtful, sending me that toffee. I never forgot that."

Marcus flushed from her compliments. "Well, it only seemed  _right_  after you helped me. She probably wouldn't have given me a second look if I'd gotten her a  _chocolate frog_."

"No, it was just so sweet. I was having a terrible day, seeing everyone so surrounded by love and romance and the toffee made it feel like...someone actually cared about me," Hermione said, looking down at the baby in her arms. "And you've given me more and more gifts through the years that continue to show how considerate you are. But...I think that Eric just might be the best gift you've gotten me."

He did laugh at that. "Hermione, you are the one who gave  _me_  Eric. Did you already forget all that hard work you did bringing him into this world? Not to mention the nine months before it," he chuckled. "My work was really quite limited."

Hermione shook her head, looking between her newborn son and her husband adoringly. "Still, I wouldn't have him if it wasn't for you. I feel so incredibly lucky," she shared honestly.

"I feel so lucky, too," Marcus said with a dazed look on his face. "I get to play my dream job, my dream girl is my wife, and now I've got the family to round it all out. I wouldn't change anything, Hermione. I love you."

"I love you," she said, blinking back tears. Yes, she might not have ever expected to end up with Marcus Flint of all people, but that didn't mean that it didn't feel right. She was sure a lot of people didn't understand their relationship, but she didn't need them too. She knew that they shared a certain romance and that was all that mattered to her.

Fin.


End file.
